


High Hopes, It Takes Me Back to When We Started, High Hopes, When It All Comes to an End

by MellytheHun



Series: Not About Angels [3]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Always Check The Notes, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Character Study, Darth Tantrum and his Evil Space Ginger, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Fluff, Hux's Tragic Past, I'm Serious, Kylo is Obsessive, M/M, Oral Sex, Pain, Romance, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Smut, Tread Carefully, Trigger Warnings Are Always In Beginning Notes, seriously, there will be so much pain to come
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-07-24 18:15:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 92,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7518265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MellytheHun/pseuds/MellytheHun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The dangers of making a home in a person.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title of Part Three is inspired by High Hopes, by Kodaline
> 
> Broken bottles in the hotel lobby,  
> Seems to me like I'm just scared of never feeling it again.  
> I know it's crazy to believe in silly things,  
> But it's not that easy.
> 
> I remember it now - it takes me back to when it all first started,  
> But I've only got myself to blame for it, and I accept it now.  
> It's time to let it go, go out and start again,  
> But it's not that easy.
> 
> But I've got high hopes, it takes me back to when we started.  
> High hopes, when you let it go, go out and start again,  
> High hopes, when it all comes to an end,  
> But the world keeps spinning around.
> 
> And in my dreams, I meet the ghosts of all the people who have come and gone,  
> Memories, they seem to show up so quick but they leave you far too soon.  
> Naïve I was just staring at the barrel of a gun,  
> And I do believe that, yeah.
> 
> But I've got high hopes - it takes me back to when we started,  
> High hopes, when you let it go, go out and start again.  
> High hopes, oh, when it all comes to an end.  
> Now the world keeps spinning.  
> Yeah, the world keeps spinning around.
> 
> High hopes, it takes me back to when we started.  
> High hopes, when you let it go, go out and start again.  
> High hopes, oh,  
> And the world keeps spinning.  
> Oh, yeah, this world keeps spinning.
> 
> How this world keeps spinning around…

The Knights were in awe of Kylo’s change in aura – once he returned to training among them, he could see the shift in power himself. He reveled in it.

Sparring with the Knights had never been easier – all of that practice with Hux had certainly paid off. He taught them all what Hux had taught him in regard to strategizing (“fight smarter, not harder,” as Hux would say) and when he was meditating or using power through the Force, it all felt more fluid, more natural, more driven than ever before.

Snoke congratulated him on these improvements but badgered him too to better himself. When during meditation, Kylo’s mind would wander toward the _Aurora_ and the crew among it, Snoke would snap his attention back into place like some dislocated joint.

It was during his time meditating with the other Knights that he learned one of the Knights too was from Arkanis. He asked to be taught the linguistic trends of Arkanis, hoping that the next he saw Hux, he would have something to impress him with and the Knight indulged him. They silently traded information during mediation and this Knight confirmed as well that Hux does mean “meadow.” He never doubted that Hux knew and understood well the ways and roots of his own homeworld language, but it was still fascinating to have it confirmed.

It was still a small relief to have some small piece of Hux verified. To be reminded that he was real.

Soon enough, Kylo found himself worrying about trivial things. He worried about Hux’s migraines, he worried that Hux would be too hard on Nali and underestimate her worth. He worried that Haas had somehow made himself a cozy place right beside Hux where only Kylo belongs, he worried Phasma was glad he was gone, he worried that Millicent would wonder where he’d gone off to and if he ever returned that she might be mad at him. He worried that Hux was forgetting about him.

Trivial things. Things so small in the scope of meaning and existence that they hardly make sense for how insignificant they are.

But Kylo worried over it all nonetheless.

“What does the attention of the stars matter when the moon is gazing upon you?” Snoke had asked.

Kylo didn’t have an answer for it any of the times Snoke asked it of him. When he started openly asking after Hux, Snoke would simply say that “the General is fine. Hard at work, readying some impressive weaponry. More disciplined than you are proving to be,” and then scold him back into focus. 

Whenever he meditated, he felt a distinct block in one direction. He knew it must be blocking him from Hux. That too made him worry. He worried that Hux might be trying to reach out to him and he was rendered unable to respond. He could only trust Snoke to tell him if matters changed aboard _Aurora_. If Snoke was keeping him from communicating with Hux, he trusted there was good reason for it. Perhaps it was all part of training. Just another torture to endure.

Kylo kept catalogued his time away as it passed, but once he was in the deprivation chambers again, he lost track of the time entirely.

He was too anxious to focus on unity with the Force once he was underground. His visions started combining with nightmares and his nightmares combined with hallucinations and eventually enough time passed that he couldn’t tell the difference between the any of them.

When he’s down in that chamber, he sees the green lightsaber and he sees it often. He sees the saber bearing down on his own, he sees it piercing Hux’s chest and the visions flesh out further the longer he is down there – he hears Hux’s last breath and he knows it is Hux’s last breath because he has heard the last breath of many before him. There is something peculiar about one’s last breath, the way it hitches and stutters out and every time the vision plays out the way he knows it will, every time he hears Hux’s last breath, he shuts his eyes and covers his ears like a child hiding from some imagined demon. 

On kinder, softer nights, he sees Hux’s sharp canines and how his hands are destined to stroke down Hux’s bare sides. He can hear Hux gasp and it’s pleasured, wanton, he can hear Hux whisper his name and it gives his very soul wings fit enough to cross him over the galaxy a thousand times to be at Hux’s side. He sometimes thinks he sees Hux pacing, sparring, stretching or fixing at his uniform where it needs no fixing. He sometimes smells bitter caf and can taste icing much too sweet laying over his tongue. He sometimes feels Hux’s hungry, full lips against his, feels how warm, pulsing and demanding Hux’s mouth, hands and body had been when he allowed Kylo to kiss him.

He sees Krin too, though. He would not know the kind nights from the cruel nights if he didn’t know the difference between the two, after all. At times, he sees her hungry eyes and hears her lecherous thoughts. He can see her thin fingers traipsing over Hux’s shoulders or wrapping around his wrist. 

Other times, he sees Haas standing much too close to Hux and Hux being too busy or distracted to notice. He sees Haas making shy attempts at courtship and Hux either being willfully ignorant of it or teasing Haas by keeping just out of reach. On the most cruel nights, he sees Hux taking Haas back to his quarters, taking advantage of his supple, young flesh, his idol worship and his desperate need to feel wanted. On those cruel nights, he clutches at Hux's dog tags, swears he can feel Hux with him somewhere, somehow. Wishful thinking of a too powerfully imaginative mind. It helps soothe the pain, though.

He sometimes sees Phasma standing behind Nali as she allows Nali to lead the stormtroopers in marching drills. He sees Nali walking alongside Jardom in long corridors, being invited to debriefings on Hux’s latest technologies, praying for him before arranging herself into bed. She does not pray to anyone in particular. She simply asks the universe to keep him safe, wherever he may be.

He sees Hux die over and over, he sees Hux biting his lower lip in pleasure, he sees Hux gripping his head in pain, he sees Hux’s hands shaking as he walks into a conference with the Commandant, he sees Hux and wants and worries and wants and worries and wants and wants and **_wants_**.

He is staring into the dark of his chamber, unsure if it is day or night outside or if time matters or exists at all. He knows much time has passed. Even before he was shut underground, four standard months had passed on _Aurora_ and now that he is far from everything but his own mind, he can no longer tell how long he has been gone from Hux.

It is almost impossible to sleep, difficult to meditate and so Kylo sits on the cool, stone ground, allowing his body to reach an unnatural stasis, waiting for something. Anything.

And he isn’t disappointed.

After some infinite and still minute passage of time, he feels that pressure again – the one he remembers feeling in Hux’s quarters that night so long ago. He welcomes it, feels for Snoke and finds no other presence but this one trying to break through to him. 

Whoever or whatever this presence is, this is at least its tenth attempt at communicating with him.

He likes to pretend it might be Hux, though he knows Hux’s energy too well to mistake it for something or someone else and he knows Hux is not Force sensitive at all and so not nearly enough to communicate through the Force. Cherishing a person makes for strange wishes, though, and Kylo still wishes it were Hux breaking through to him.

It is this eleventh attempt in the deprivation chamber that the presence finally takes form before him.

Kylo does not recognize this person.

He is a Jedi – one from long ago if his hair and robes are to date him. 

His eyes are light, his face is young, his robes are dated and there is a scar running down the side of his face. He is not who Kylo expected to see.

“Who are you?” Kylo asks.

His voice is raspy and dry from disuse. He tries to remember the last time he used his voice, but he can’t. He remembers laughing once, though. It was with Hux. He can’t remember what it was that made him laugh, but he can vaguely recall the sound of it bouncing off walls. He thinks he can remember Hux’s smile. Even if his memory is correct, it falls short of the beauty he once knew so well. 

Even weak and raspy as it is, Kylo’s voice still seems too loud after having been in such intense silence for so long.

The Force spirit meets his eyes and says urgently, “we haven’t much time. Your master will sense me soon.”

“Who are you?” Kylo asks again, feeling cagey but curious.

The young man looks terribly sad for a split moment and then he seems to regain his concentration, saying more strictly, “listen to me – I know that you have had visions of someone you care for dying –“

“How do you know about those? Have you been showing me those?” Kylo interrogates, standing up and towering over the ghost.

“No,” the Jedi replies, “The Force has given you this insight. I am here to tell you not to act on it.”

Rage is not foreign to Kylo, but after so long with feeling only oppressive anxiety, tortured uncertainty and foggy melancholy, the fiery, liberating energy of rage is a welcome change. 

He sneers at the spirit.

“And why should I listen to you?”

“Because I made the same error once,” the Jedi tells him solemnly, “Listen to me well – you cannot change the fates. The more you try to rewrite this vision and prevent its unfoldings, the more you will secure your undoing.”

“I have sworn to protect him!” Kylo barks angrily, “I will not sit idly by and allow his life to be taken!”

Kylo can feel Hux’s greatcoat around him suddenly, he can feel the whipping winds on Starkiller, hear the crumbling infrastructure, the splintering trees all around him, he can smell the fresh blood and Hux’s cologne and then he hears Hux’s voice, clear as crystal in his ear;

_“Immunity to pain is not the absence of pain, Ren. It is the acceptance of pain that dulls it.”_

As quickly as it came, the illusion is gone and Kylo is breathless, his heart feels constricted and panicked. He scowls dangerously at the Force spirit.

“You should listen to him,” the strange Jedi advises, “He is right in what he warned you of – accept this fate. Accept that there are things beyond your control and you will find peace. If you pursue this Jedi in the hopes of changing this man’s fate –“

“I will kill her!” Kylo shouts with determination, feeling the walls of his chamber shaking with his fury, “You and no one else will deter me! At all costs, Hux must be protected! I have vanquished death before when it came for Hux and I will again! As many times as I must!”

The Jedi gives him a sympathetic, withering look and that familiar expression only serves to anger Kylo further.

“And I _will_ kill that Jedi,” Kylo warns assuredly, his shoulders rounding high, his fists clenching, “I will present her very head on the end of her crafted staff and parade it to all the galaxy as a warning if that is what it comes to. She made a dire mistake when she made an enemy of me, but she and the galaxy have yet to see the monster I can become when they make themselves an enemy of Hux.”

“You will not find peace this way, Kylo Ren,” the Jedi assures him, “there is no peace in this violence, there is no peace –“

“ _Peace is a lie_!” Kylo roars, eyes wild, lights sparking in his periphery where he knows his brain is trying to compensate for the darkness, “Peace is a lie and it always has been! Always will be! There is only Hux! Only Hux.”

“Kylo Ren –“

“ _No_!” Kylo intercepts, his hands clenching and unclenching, wishing he had his lightsaber to slash through this man with, “Where was your so-called peace when Ben Solo rescued broken animals and only received scolding for his troubles? Where was your peace when Ben Solo begged to be heard, to be listened to and all of the wise, all-knowing princesses and criminals and Jedi were too busy arguing amongst themselves about what was best for him to hear him? Where was your peace when Ben Solo was told he could only live one kind of life and was sent away like some diseased animal to be carved out into that shape? Where was your peace then?”

The young man doesn’t respond and Kylo is glad for it. Even if there were one, no excuse will do. Not now. Not after so many years, not after so many opportunities for those that were meant to protect him to take responsibility for what they created. 

“I will tell you where the peace was,” Kylo hisses, stalking around the glowing figure, “It was with Hux and I would not know rest until I was brought to him and him to me. It is with Hux I feel at rest – Leia Organa’s withholding of the truth of Ben Solo’s strength bred my paranoia, Han Solo’s recurring absences bred my distrust, Luke Skywalker’s disapproving stare bred my need to achieve more than anyone ever thought possible! All of this unrest! All while they preached that they were guiding me towards peace! All of it lies!”

The Jedi watches Kylo as he paces and pulls at his hair; he absently notes that it’s much too long now. He knows Hux would want to cut it. He would probably let Hux cut it. He misses Hux. His heart twists up painfully.

“Where is the fairness? Where is the levity? When they looked upon Ben Solo, saw his strength and not only feared him but then tried to mold him into someone else! Told him he could only be a Jedi, he could only serve the Republic, he could only be some one thing, some one person without ever asking him what he might want from life! Looking at him like tourists staring at an untamed beast in a cage they themselves built around him! Pathetically frightened and stupid enough to think that Ben Solo could not see that he was being wronged! But I found what I was looking for. When Ben Solo died by my hands, Kylo Ren was born and _I_ have found the peace you all have lied for and kept hidden.”

Swallowing roughly, Kylo lowers his voice, his throat and chest still feel tightly wound and he wonders briefly if he is shouting at nothing. If he’s shouting at all. If he is anyone or anything. Nothing feels real anymore. He doesn’t know how long he has been denied the sun, the moon, the interaction of other beings – too long, though. Too long. He is losing touch with reality. It slips from him even as he shouts at it.

“I laid my skin upon Hux’s and I felt that long coveted peace,” Kylo says gravely, “After all of these years, all of these deaths, all of this blood and torture and feeling the pull from both Dark and Light, the Force tearing my mind apart from the seams and all it took to rest was to find Hux and to touch him. I think of Hux and I feel that I can do anything. I can face death again and again and I would walk with grace and gladness into the fiery mouth of _Hell_ if that is where I could find Hux. There is no peace. There is only Hux. And you cannot stop me now. No weeping mother, no dead father, no aged Jedi and certainly no clumsy, uneducated scavenger can stop me from keeping what I have always wanted and always been denied.”

“My name is Anakin,” the Jedi tells him without prompting.

Kylo’s brow creases, “…okay? Is that meant to frighten me? I’ve no idea who you are.”

“Yes, you do,” Anakin insists regretfully, eyes glassy, “…I fear I am too late.”

“You are,” Kylo answers readily, “You cannot protect the scavenger and you cannot keep me from protecting Hux.”

“This is not the way, Kylo Ren,” Anakin warns once more, “You will only prolong your own suffering and that of Hux’s if you continue on this path.”

Kylo doesn’t respond, unsure of what to say. Unsure of what he’s hearing. Unsure he’s hearing anything at all.

“The Jedi in you knows this is the truth.”

Very quickly, Anakin’s spirit flickers away and vanishes, leaving Kylo in the lead blackness again with only the sense of Snoke’s presence.

_Kylo Ren._

“Yes, Master?”

_I have a mission for you on Felucia._

“Will I –“

_If you complete the task set forth, I will allow you to return to your General for a time._

Kylo’s heart soars and he looks above, though nothing is there, moving his feet gracelessly over the stone ground, nearly tripping. His blood is pounding and pooling, every fiber of his being is pulling him up and away.

_I must see him. I must see him._

_You must complete the mission, Kylo Ren. If the results are unsatisfactory, you will not be seeing any General any time soon._

Kylo nods to the darkness, “yes, okay – I will not fail you, Master.”

He hears Snoke laugh quietly.

_I know you won’t, boy._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mention of an infant death, vague descriptions of a murder and disturbing imagery of skeletons.  
> If there's anything else I should tag for this chapter, please let me know in the comments!

Leaving Snoke’s citadel is a sort of whirlwind. Kylo is pulled from the dark of his chamber and while he’s thankful for the chance to shave, to cut some of his hair, bathe and dress in fresh robes again, he’s eager to get off-planet. Snoke senses this and seems to intentionally delay him, testing his patience, wanting to see him act out. And perhaps an older version of Kylo would have. 

Snoke was clearly expecting him to throw a tantrum like a child being refused a toy, but that is not what Hux is to Kylo. He found patience enough to make a friend of General Hux and he proves, against all odds, that he has found patience enough to endure most anything to see him again.

When he asks Snoke how much time has passed, Snoke tells him that time is relevant, so pointless to ask after, however if he’s wondering how much time has passed for General Hux (which is precisely what Kylo is asking), that he will just have to find out for himself the next he sees the General. 

Another test of his patience, but another test passed.

Snoke requires him to take two cycles of rest before going to Felucia – his body is malnourished, his scars seem to protrude more and just eating solid food is like learning to walk again. Hearing the thoughts of the Knights around the citadel is comforting to a degree. It is short of real interaction, but it allows him time outside his own head, which he desperately needs.

When he’s bathing on the second cycle and sinking into the steaming water, he shuts his eyes and blankets himself over the citadel. His power extends further than before and with more ease and speed. He finds himself listening to the Knights trading theories about Kylo’s change in demeanor. One of them mentions Hux, though not by name. 

_The blue-eyed one that destroyed the Hosnian system._

_Starkiller?_

_The same._

_What would that human have to do with Lord Kylo Ren’s power shift?_

_Lord Kylo Ren’s feelings for Starkiller run deeply. He has a desire to protect that has not existed before._

_To protect Starkiller?_

_It would appear so._

_Master Snoke seems pleased with him._

_Yes, Master Snoke seems pleased. Perhaps he foresaw the advancement of Lord Kylo Ren’s powers and has been waiting for this precise time to arise._

_One must wonder why he feels such a strong desire to protect Starkiller._

_Master Snoke has implied his feelings for Starkiller are beyond our understanding._

**_His name is Hux_** , Kylo sends them.

He can feel his own voice reverberating in their heads. He feels no anger, but still, the power and clarity of his voice is frightening to them briefly. That gives him a quick power high. 

Kylo sinks further into the water, sees flashes in his mind’s eye of a young Hux, nodding off and losing himself in scarlet waters. He opens his eyes so as not to think on it too long.

He realizes too late that those images were seen by the Knights and shuts his eyes again, concentrating to gather their reactions. 

All that he can sense is a mixture of confusion.

_Is the desire to protect your Hux the desire to protect him from himself?_

**_No_** , Kylo answers, **_He is more than capable of protecting himself. He has defeated me many times in practice combat. He is no longer a risk to himself either_** _._

_How can you be so sure?_

_Why are you questioning him? Lord Kylo Ren clearly understands his Hux more than we could._

_This Hux seems friendly with death. Willing to work alongside it, play with it, challenge it – do none of you wonder if he is stable – as stable as humans like him can be? The ones that toy with death are often unfeeling and unpredictable, like feral animals._

Immediately, Kylo remembers how Hux nearly jumped to his death in Haas’s hangar, throwing himself bodily over the rail without hesitance. He remembers too how the first night they sparred, Kylo very nearly decapitated him and Hux was rather unbothered, unimpressed even. He remembers how concerned Hux was over Kylo being wounded at the gala – so much more frightful than he was for his own wellness. 

He remembers how Hux drunkenly told him how he never really cared about whether he lived or died in battle, whether he lived or died at all. 

Rather than putting him off, these memories only serve to make Kylo miss Hux and his strange affinity for the idea of oblivion more.

_What is that meant to imply? That Starkiller is untrustworthy?_

_Lord Kylo Ren would only choose the most worthy of companion. We are the elite and few he chose to fight alongside him – if he deems Starkiller worthy, then Starkiller is of worth to us all._

Kylo nearly corrects that particular Knight again on Hux’s name, but decides not to. This Knight seems to understand what Kylo wants from him without Kylo having to demand it; blind loyalty. Of course Kylo would only choose the most worthy of companions – that any of the other Knights doubt him is ludicrous. So, Kylo allows the Knight to call Hux “Starkiller.” It’s not that big a deal.

Besides, he likes to hear them talk about Hux as if Hux belongs to him – he knows Hux would be furiously offended if he ever heard such a conversation about himself. Just the thought of Hux being flustered and angry with him spreads a smile across Kylo’s face.

_What are we meant to feel about your Hux, Lord Kylo Ren?_

The other Knights fall quiet, all eager to be given direction by him. 

After a moment of thinking, Kylo replies, **_General Hux is not Force sensitive. I desperately wish he were. And know that if he were, he could replace the all of you at a moment’s notice. That he is not Force sensitive is a grace you all have been gifted from the universe. He is powerful enough without Force sensitivity, though. If ever you interact with him, you will treat him and think of him as my equal._**

The Knights’ collective thoughts muddle into a tangled web of murmurs with varying degrees of shock, some of offense and others of interest. Kylo effortlessly breaks the cloud of noise.

**_Let me make myself clear._ **

Silence ensues.

**_I could not and would not go on without him. I am an extension of him and he of me. When you fight with me, you fight with Hux. When you stand with me, you stand with Hux. There is nothing I would not do for Hux and so there is nothing any of you would not do for him either. If you were ever forced to choose between the two of us, you are all to choose Hux, as that is what I would do._ **

_Lord Kylo Ren –_

**_Do not question my authority. You are all to choose Hux. It is not that his life has more value than my own – it is that my life has no value without him in it. Swear to me you will all protect him as you would protect me, fight for him as you would fight for me and swear to me that his life, no matter the odds, will take precedence over my own._ **

There is an enduring silence for a long while. Kylo is close to mastering patience, though – he waits for them to feel how ironclad his resolve is. He knows they can feel it. He knows they can sense his loyalties and they all know too that Kylo will get what he wants, always.

_We swear it, Lord Kylo Ren_ , they answer in unison.

**_Very good_** , Kylo replies, **_Those of you accompanying me to Felucia – get yourselves ready. We leave at sunrise tomorrow._**

After that, Kylo draws his mind back into his body and opens his eyes. He stays in the water for a long time, unwinding his muscles and trying to calm his heart – he wants this mission to be complete. He wants to become unstuck from time and cut ahead to when he is already reunited with Hux. And whenever that may be, he wants time to slow down again. In fact, once he has Hux in his arms again, he’d like time to stop altogether.

He is unable to sleep and so he meditates through the twelve-hour night. He settles himself outside and tries reaching for Hux’s energy like a lighthouse, a beacon searching through the dark sea of space, looking for any sign of life. He cannot sense Hux’s presence, though. He tells himself it is because Hux must not be meditating – perhaps so much time has passed without feeling Kylo reach back that Hux has given up on meditation. 

He thinks of Anakin and his desperate warnings and he has to make a physical effort not to scowl in disgust.

Another foolish Jedi, convinced they know the ways of the universe when only knowing how to answer to the Light, probably gave his life to the Republic and daring to haunt Kylo like he has any idea what Kylo is or has been through.

The Dark will grant Kylo the power to protect Hux. He knows this. 

His focus slips while he’s meditating and although he gives up on trying to reach Hux, he doesn’t stop thinking about him. Rather than meditating, he really winds up sitting under moon, thinking on Hux. Imagining the way the light played on Hux’s hair at the gala, how his medals and awards shimmered, how his shoes shined so pristinely as they glided across the dance floor.

He remembers learning to dance the night before, in Hux’s common space. How the music was slow and calm, the air was easy and he remembers that moment – brief as it was – when he let his hand slide down Hux’s side. Low enough that Hux stopped moving to regard him. Low enough that Hux should have told him to step away and let go, to get out of his room and how dare he – 

But he didn’t. Hux didn’t get rid of him. Hux had looked him in the eye, hadn’t he? Hux had stepped up closer to him, hadn’t he? He’d pressed their chests together, hadn’t he?

Kylo intakes shakily, rubbing at the center of his chest like he might feel Hux there. And he does, in a way. He feels the dog tags.

When the sunlight crosses his body and face, he swears he could mistake its warmth for the feeling of Hux gently arranging hair from off his forehead. He thinks that if he opens his eyes, perhaps Hux will have materialized there before him out of his sheer want for Hux’s company. He hopes for this. Comes close to praying for it, even.

His eyes only show him the landscape outside Snoke’s citadel that he has grown very used to the sight of. He readily stands and gets himself armored and prepared for travel. The faster he is done with this mission, the faster he can return to Hux and that is all that matters.

Felucia is a humid planet on the Outer Rim, thick with jungle, circled by eight moons, located in the Felucia System and apparently home to an ancient, abandoned Sith temple. 

Kylo is meant to find a ring. Snoke said only that and when Kylo asked for a description of it, Snoke told him that he would know the ring once he happened upon it and offered him no other clues. 

The Sith temple, or what remains of it, resembles a royal, abandoned mausoleum; it is enormous, surrounded by overgrown plant life deep in the jungle, decorated in moss of varying shades of green and blue, but the now broken structures speak to artistry and a dark sophistication. The cracked columns that still stand are wrapped with vines, flowers and ivy.

Despite the stains of time, rain, nature and decay, Kylo can still see the remnants of intricate and once beautiful murals in the arching ceilings and on the walls of corridors. Kylo tends to think that Hux would find the art interesting.

He and two of his Knights spend five days there, walking the ruins, hardly sleeping – not that the other Knights didn’t want to sleep. They did, but Kylo wouldn’t allow for it. If he was not resting until the ring was found, neither would his Knights.

When he sensed a pinprick of resistance from one of them before they heeled to his rule, he remembered what Haas had told him.

_“… General Hux never once sat behind a desk to watch it unfold. He was always on the ground with his troops, raining destruction upon our enemies like a hurricane. If the men following him did not sleep, he would not sleep either. If the men following him could not eat, he would not eat either. He is truly a captain to go down with his ship – when he puts his faith in someone or something… it is a compliment of the highest order.”_

Kylo wonders if Hux can teach him how to command respect like that. The Knights obey him, some out of loyalty, some out of fear and some out of admiration, but none worship him as Hux’s underlings worship. He wants that power.

Even while he envies Hux’s control over others, he admires it too and he’s humble enough to feel graced with Hux’s faith. He knows now how rare a gem it is in the galaxy.

The heat and humidity on Felucia makes Kylo irritable, snappish and his impatience grows with every passing minute. He walks through private rooms and meditation gardens that light comes down on through the open ceilings, broken in and decrepit. He finds skeletons, robes that have been destroyed by all manner of beast and weather, he finds paintings, statues, deprivation chambers, droids long destroyed by exposure to the wild or melted in what must have been the last battle that took place there. 

It is on the fifth night Kylo finds an open chamber. He is traveling down a narrow stairwell, hears the clicking and wispy noises of insects crawling or flying nearby. At the end of the stairwell, there is a single door, left ajar. When he steps inside, it is too dark to see anything, so he ignites his lightsaber and when he does, he sees ruined books, stone tables and a closet left open. 

In the closet, there are two skeletons, holding one another, still in their robes. 

The chamber is underground, so their remains seem to have been saved from the unforgiving climates and wildlife of Felucia’s jungle. The clothes are still weathered away, threadbare, torn and scorched, but Kylo can tell enough that both were human and based on the designs of their robes, they seemed to have been powerful Force users, well-respected in the temple. 

He doesn’t hesitate to search them.

While Kylo searches the smaller skeleton’s robes for the ring, the robes all but falls apart completely and exposes its broken midsection. The pelvic bone is cracked all the way through on one side, the tip of one rib bone is gone and the left ankle looks twisted. It was a woman – a pregnant woman. She must have been near to full term if the small bones inside her are reliable time indications. 

He stares at her chest cavity – there are scorch marks there as well. It looks like she died of punctured lungs. The other figure holding her must have been trying to protect her. Kylo finds burn marks on the bones of his spine and along his ribs – he may have been sliced through the side with a saber.

He wonders who died first.

He wonders how long the baby lived within her before perishing and he wonders how the Jedi justify this. He wonders how the Jedi can call this peace.

His hand moves on its own, nearing the infant that never was and he brushes his fingers delicately over its partially formed skull. When he touches the bones, he can hear a heartbeat and feel a cocoon of warmth. He can hear whispering dulled by some thick barrier, stones moving, the ground shifting – the whispering terribly sad, then rushed and then turned to panicked silence and that loud heartbeat. Then buzzing – violent buzzing, loud enough to be identified as a lightsaber and screaming too. 

He can hear gurgled breathing, choking, ugly sobs and he can feel rage coursing through blood now long dried up and gone on the wind. A woeful and dulling awareness of something moving. The baby was kicking. The baby was kicking when she died.

With the sound like a wind tunnel rushing around his ears, Kylo is thrown back into the reality and time of the chamber and he hears a soft clatter. He turns his head to the side, downward and sees fallen off the mother’s finger is a ring now rolling on the stone floor.

It is golden with a jade crystal embedded in the middle.

He looks at her tilted skull as if to thank her. He has never been frightened by dead bodies, but there is something eerie crawling up his spine when he looks away from her to the ring – as if she might grow back her organs, muscle, skin, blood and eyes and be looking at him if he turns his head again. 

He ignores this childish fear, keeps from looking at her and then takes the ring.

_It’s a trap._

He looks down at the ring in his hand and he wonders why it’s so warm.

_It’s a trap._

He shuts his eyes. It’s a woman’s voice. It must be the mother’s voice.

“What is the trap?” Kylo asks.

_The gold is the trap. Don’t follow it._

Kylo’s brows crease in confusion.

_Don’t follow it. Leave the gold. Leave the gold._

“I don’t understand,” Kylo murmurs, the ring in his palm burning now.

**_It’s a trap!_ **

“Lord Kylo Ren.”

Kylo opens his eyes, twisting around to see one of the Knights standing in the doorway by the stairwell. 

“Yes?”

“I sensed your unease. Are you well?”

Kylo’s fingers curl around the ring, cool as death now and he replies, “more than well. I have found it. We must get to Snoke. Now.”


	3. Chapter 3

Kylo, to say the least, is surprised, when Snoke doesn’t require or even seem to _want_ the ring. At his apparent bewilderment, Snoke explains that the ring is meant for Kylo, and that it belonged to a very powerful healer and Force user, Mieu Pohar. Kylo tells Snoke that he overheard her death replaying itself and experienced the unborn child’s last moments; at this report, Snoke nods understandingly.

“You are very in touch with the afterlife, Kylo Ren.”

It's not the first time Snoke has told him such a thing. He used to assure Kylo he would specialize in necromancy and the most delicate arts of life and death. Kylo looks down at the ring in his palm, wondering what it was Mieu Pohar wanted power in most, and Snoke, standing nearly ten feet tall, walks up to Kylo, displaying his open hand for Kylo to dispense the ring unto. When Kylo does, Snoke examines it closely between his fingers, long and crooked as spiders’ legs, and asks, “when are you planning to tell me about Anakin?”

A shudder of chilled anxiety runs through Kylo’s stomach and, in its wake, a fiery knot of anger tangles. He shakes his head, and answers, “I didn’t think something so trivial was worth your time, Master.”

“Trivial?” Snoke asks drily, “Seeing Force ghosts is no trivial matter. What did he tell you?”

“He tried to convince me not to protect General Hux,” Kylo replies with rage reigniting at just the remembrance, “Nonsense. The same nonsense Luke Skywalker spoke of – to allow visions to come to you, and not to act on them, that doing so somehow endangered everyone more than sitting idly by. The Jedi are worse than oppressors. They are bystanders. They have access to greater powers with which to help, and yet they do nothing and call it peace.”

“How insightful,” Snoke notes, handing the ring back to Kylo.

Snoke turns his back, his long, tattered robes fluttering across the stone floor like waves of smoke.

“With that aside, did you learn anything at the temple, when you found the ring? Did you see anything upon finding it?”

Kylo’s stomach turns again.

 

* * *

 

 

_Ben Solo is knelt on the ground, grass stains on his newest robes, and the braid specific to his status tickling his ear. His eyes are wide, his heart pumping wildly, and the wind sweeps over him, cooling his warm face - and then he hears Luke Skywalker speak from behind him._

_“Ben,” Luke greets, stepping over the hilltop to him, “I see you found a crystal! Congratulations! Are you ready to start building your lightsaber?”_

_Ben looks down at the blood red crystal in his dirty hands and stands up. He nods, “I have been ready a long time.”_

_“The Force doesn’t work like that,” Luke explains with a smile Ben finds demeaning, “These milestones in learning how to use the Force – they don’t arrive late, nor early. They happen precisely when they are meant to.”_

_Ben wants to roll his eyes, but he’s learned that doing that makes Luke give him these pitiful, sad stares, so he fights the urge, and looks past Luke to see the R2D2 unit rolling up to the hilltop as well._

_“That old thing is so beat up,” Ben comments, “Will you ever replace it?”_

_“Never,” Luke smiles, “R2 is family to me.”_

_Ben wonders why he is treated more poorly and with more scorn then, than the R2D2 unit, if they are also family._

_R2D2 beeps something complicated – Ben never learned to speak binary. He can understand a word or two sometimes, but only through situational context and repetition. He knows what R2 has said, though._

_“It would appear there’s a new message for you, from home. Would you like to hear it?”_

_Ben scowls at Luke, at the droid, and then says through gritted teeth, “ **no**.”_

_Without looking back, Ben storms off downhill to where some of his peers – really, just other students as none of them are close to Ben’s age – are also looking for their own crystals. He must have been the first to find one._

_“Wait,” Luke calls after him, “Ben! Wait a minute, just – wait a sec.”_

_With a heaving sigh, Ben stops. This too has been trained into him – he is scolded when he demands to be left alone. No one trusts him; he wonders who or what in the galaxy anyone thinks he will hurt if left alone._

_“Ben, your parents really wanna hear from you,” Luke says for the millionth time that standard year, “I know it seems rough right now, I know you must be feeling –"_

_“You have no idea what I’m feeling!” Ben shouts._

_His eyes are getting hot, and he hates himself for wanting to cry like a child. He hates Leia, he hates Han, he hates Luke, he hates the damned R2D2 unit – he hates the ways of the Jedi. He doesn't even want to go home anymore. He just wants to be left alone._

_Luke sighs, and scrubs a hand through his recently greying hair, “I’m sorry, Ben. I… I just know how much they miss you. They can hear from me all day long that you’re doing fine, but hearing it from someone else is never as comforting as hearing it from the source. They just want to know that you’re okay.”_

_“What if I’m not okay?” Ben asks, turning to look at Luke._

_“Are you not okay?” Luke asks seriously._

_Ben hesitates, and that is enough for Luke’s eyes to change into something anxious, and something Ben hates because it makes **him** anxious._

_Luke bends down to better level with Ben – he hasn’t hit his growth spurt yet. Luke looks over him like there might be some open wound somewhere, and Ben swallows loudly under the intensity of his observation._

_“I’m fine – I’m fine,” Ben answers, much too little and much too late, “It’s not… it’s not like that.”_

_Luke holds eye-contact with him for a few leaden moments, and then sits down on the grass with an exhausted huff. Ben watches him and does not sit down next to him, despite feeling in the air that Luke would like for him to._

_“Ben… I don’t know what I’m doing here,” Luke admits lowly, looking up at him, “I’m no teacher, and I’m no parent… I’m barely a Jedi… but you’ve been left in my care, Ben. I’m… I’m trying my best. If I’m not understanding you – if I’m not seeing something, if you’re not okay… tell me, Ben. I might be your Jedi Master when we train, but when we are here as we are now, I’m just your uncle. I want what’s best for you. If you don’t want to talk to your mom and dad, you don’t have to. But you have to let me know if you’re okay.”_

_A tear falls down Ben’s face, and Luke gives him that sad stare he hates. He looks up and away, wiping at his cheek with the dirty heart of his palm, and he thinks to himself, **no, I’m not okay, none of you want me, none of you trust me, and none of you actually care if I’m okay or not - you’re all going to just keep ‘doing what you think is best for me,’ without letting me in on the plan. And when have mom or dad ever been interested in speaking to me? When has dad ever shown anything but disdain for my ‘magic,’ when has mom ever emanated something other than palpable dread and anxiety whenever I tell her about my powers?** _

_“Tell them to stop sending me messages,” Ben half-orders, “I don’t want to talk to them. They know I don’t. I want them to leave me alone. If I wanted to talk to them, I clearly know how to reach them. So… tell them to stop.”_

_With a grimace, Luke nods dutifully, “…okay. Okay, Ben. I will. I’ll tell them to stop.”_

_Ben looks at Luke, and Luke gestures at Ben’s loose fist, asking softly, “what color did you find?”_

_“Red,” Ben answers, opening his palm to show Luke the crystal._

_Clearly pleased on his account, Luke smiles at it, and Ben feels a small ember of pride, a light feeling that comes and goes – Luke will go back to being a teacher soon, but he seems genuinely excited for, and proud of Ben in this moment. Like an uncle would be proud of his nephew. These moments are rare, and Ben hates them only because once the moment is gone, he feels lonelier than before._

_“That’s a beautiful crystal,” Luke compliments, “You did a good job, Ben. Are you excited? To build your lightsaber?”_

_Ben nods, and Luke smiles at him._

_“It’s gonna be okay, Ben. You and I will have a lot of fun building it together, and once it’s built, we’ll have even more fun training with it. I think you’ll really like this part.”_

_With a groan of an aging man – a groan Ben has sometimes heard his father make when getting up from his banishment to the living room couch – Luke stands and brushes off his robes. He looks back at the droid, and the droid whirrs at him. Luke just shakes his head, and says, “it’s fine, R2. I’ll take care of it later.”_

_He looks back at Ben, and continues, “come on – maybe you can help the younglings find their own crystals. You know how much they look up to you.”_

_Ben rolls his eyes so hard it looks like it might hurt, and makes a face like he might have bitten into a lemon, “ugh, they’re the annoying little siblings I never wanted.”_

_Luke laughs and ruffles Ben’s hair, “hey, now! Play nice, Ben! I lived most my life not knowing I had a sister out there, and now that I’ve got her – I’m the happiest guy in the galaxy. You’ll miss the younglings one day. Especially once **you’re** older and wiser, trying to teach **them** something, and they roll their eyes at **you** and tell you that **you’re** the older brother they never wanted.”_

_Ben smirks and looks down at the ground, “yeah, I guess so.”_

_Once they get to the bottom of the hill, one little girl that’s particularly fond of Ben calls for him to help her, and Ben starts in her direction, pocketing his crystal. As he begins to walk away from Luke, he hears Luke say, “oh – wait, Ben.”_

_Ben stops to look over his shoulder._

_“Did you see anything? When you found your crystal – did you have any sort of vision?”_

_It splays before his mind’s eye like it first had when he touched the crystal just jutting up from the soil – a bare neck with light freckles, dark red hair swept back and shining, a semi-profile, a face just about to turn toward him, and he’s sure the person is about to say his name, but somehow it won’t be his name either._

_This person is about to say his name, but he’s not pressing his lips together to make the “buh” sound of “Ben,” – in fact, Ben can **feel** the person’s tongue clicking the roof of their mouth, like they’re about to say something with a hard “kuh,” sound. He feels the person’s eyes moving along with their head, that’s how he knows they’re turning to purposefully look at him, and he wants to see that person’s eyes – he wants to know what they’re about to call him, what they’re about to say._

_He wants to know._

_Then the vision is gone._

_“Ben?”_

_Ben looks up guiltily and manages to school his face enough to answer, without sounding too dishonest, “no. I didn’t see anything.”_

_Luke knows he’s lying and Ben knows this too. They stare at each other for a few moments, and Ben can sense that Luke wants to push the issue, but he won’t. His brows curve in, his eyes worried again in that annoying way, and he responds, “okay.”_

_“Okay,” Ben says back to him, closing the conversation and turning back towards the younglings still digging in the dirt._

 

* * *

 

 

“See anything?” Kylo asks.

“Yes,” Snoke responds, “When you touched the ring, were you offered any visions or insight?”

Staring Snoke in his dark, beady eyes, Kylo remains entirely stoic, even, and serious, when he replies certainly, “no. I didn’t see anything.”

Snoke looks at him strangely.

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.”

“So, you were able to experience the unborn child’s last moments, but Pohar left no energy in her ring?”

“She was being held by a man,” Kylo replies blandly, “Perhaps her last moments were too intimate to be left behind.”

Snoke’s expression clearly shows he is questioning Kylo’s honesty, but Kylo is not Ben Solo. He can lie, and he can lie to any Master. What is his, is his alone. There is no reason for Master Snoke to know what occurred when he held the ring.

This is the first time, however, that Kylo has ever intentionally hidden something from Snoke. He should be more nervous than he feels, but his heart is tame and his mind is clear.

Once Snoke seems satisfied with the report, he sits in his marble throne and stares at Kylo a long few beats before saying, “your travel pod is still on its landing place at the edge of the woods. Program the pod to return to its dock, and it will take you back to _Aurora_. I will be in contact with you soon.”

Kylo’s heart skips a beat and he bows, “thank you, Master – thank you.”

Without a backward glance, Kylo moves like lightning to the pod, nearly forgetting to shut the door behind him before punching at the navigation panel with shaking hands. As soon as he’s out of the atmosphere, he pushes the pod into hyper speed, and the ship informs him that he has an estimated time of arrival within the next eight standard hours.

Kylo knows immediately that he will be restless. He would love to sleep through the trip – to rest the entire way, so that the eight hours pass like the blink of an eye, and then he can wake and find himself docking into the hangar on _Aurora_. He knows it’s impossible, though. He is too full of nervous energy.

An idea strikes him, then, and he starts checking some of the information on the ship – the ship surely kept track of time. It would have some sort of date of departure to now, and it does.

Once it's done, Kylo is unsure as to whether or not he should have checked at all.

Ten standard months have passed aboard _Aurora_.

342.471 cycles.

As the anxiety of that settles, Kylo spends the first hour aboard the pod pacing relentlessly, worrying over the visions, and nightmares, and hallucinations he had while in his deprivation chamber – worrying over how he can’t tell the difference between any of them anymore. Can’t tell what was a nightmare, what was a vision, what was wishful thinking, what was punishing himself, what was a hallucination driven by the lack of sensory input.

He can’t tell if Hux has taken advantage of Haas or if that was just a product of Kylo's twisted imagination - and if Hux has taken Haas that way, Kylo will kill that boy with or without Hux’s permission. No – he will drive Haas to kill himself. That way, Kylo’s hands will be technically clean, and Haas can have a coward’s exit.

He can’t tell if Hux has seen Krin, if he struck some sort of deal with her, if he sold himself so that his father might have a more comfortable office space. His blood boils at the remembrance of her - of Krin. How her hand curled so confidently around Hux’s wrist, how she’d been so set on keeping Hux for the rest of the gala’s evening, and so sure she finally had her ticket into his bed. He thinks of killing her as well. Killing her will have more repercussions than killing Haas, though.

The Commandant is dependent on her parents’ investments, and if he weren’t such a bigot, he’d have probably married Hux off to the alien woman for whatever financial aid her parents would have given as compensation. Hux could suffer for the murder of Krin.

Kylo’s fists clench and he grinds his teeth.

And still he cannot bring himself to wish anything ill against Hux. No matter the form of betrayal his sleep-deprived, overloaded, and overworked mind can come up with, he only wishes to protect Hux.

He takes his mask off in a hurry despite there being none. He keeps his helmet off for the entire trip, feeling like the pod is already too suffocating, like it’s just another deprivation chamber. Like eight hours is irrelevant, because time is so subjective, and nothing matters, and nothing is real.

He tries to meditate, tries to reach out to Hux’s energy, but he can’t sense it.

_Hux wasn’t real._

He hisses at his own mind to stop lying to him.

Desperate for contact, he sheds his outer layers, and stands at the center of the pod. He takes Hux’s dog tags and brings them to his lips, shuts his eyes, and lifts his right hand up and out. He constructs their illusion without opening his eyes to see it. He can feel the false grass beneath his boots, feel the conjured, soft, winds, and he cans sense the smell of sea salt. He can even hear Ben Solo’s mother bird singing.

“Hux,” he murmurs.

He feels and listens to it echo.

He blankets himself as far as his mind can stretch, just like he did when he first came out of his deprivation chamber – his powers are far-reaching, much more than last he saw Hux, and he thinks that if he can reach just far enough to be within the _range_ of Hux’s meditative energy, he _might_ feel something.

He can tell that there is no block. There is no wall keeping him from Hux.

There is no energy.

There is nothing reaching out to him.

Hux is not seeking him.

He snarls against the dog tags, and throws them away from his face, opens his eyes, and waves the illusion into crumbling. He sits at the table and marinates in his nightmares. He consumes himself with jealousy, insecurity, and uncertainty. That uncertainty spreads so deeply, so quickly, he has a brief moment of wondering if he should turn the ship around and stay at the citadel. Never return. Never speak or think of Hux again.

_Leave the gold._

He’s holding his head, his elbows on the table, the ring in one of his robe pockets, and his fingers curl angrily against his scalp.

“Shut up.”

_Leave the gold!_

“ _Shut up_!” Kylo roars.

He can feel a heat emanating from his robes, and so he leaves them, going instead to lie in the cot against the far wall. He scratches at his own skin that feels too tight, pulls too hard at his hair, presses too hard against his eyes, and for hours, stays in that tortured frame of mind. Unable to reach Hux, unable to know if Hux is still there to reach, and unsure if he hates Hux, if Hux has betrayed him, if Hux has done something unthinkable, or enough to drive Kylo to murder whoever so much as breathes too closely to him.

Eight hours.

He’s numb at some point, because the time passes and he isn’t fully aware of it while it passes. He certainly doesn’t sleep, but when the ship alerts him that it will be docking within the next twenty minutes, Kylo is shocked and scrambles off the cot, up to the pilot’s seat. He looks out the viewport and sees _Aurora_ in all of her beauty; there are two massive missiles attached to either side of her; they fit the blueprints Kylo saw on Hux’s desk. He smiles, thinking on how Hux must have been very busy with their completion, and how beautiful, sleek, and deadly they look; just like Hux.

He can see small dots of people walking about through some of the viewports, and his body is nearly as torn as his mind. Part of him wants to turn around, part of him wants to stay on the ship, turn everything off and let inertia sweep him away, and another part of him wants to put the pod into hyper speed again just to launch himself into the hangar more quickly.

He gets to the table and redresses, tells himself to remain calm, tries to deep breathe as if meditating, but even when his breath is calm, his heart is wild, and his stomach is twisted.

Docking has never seemed to take so long before. Once the pod is secured and the hangar closes, Kylo stands at the pod’s door, unsure of who will be there in the hangar to greet him. He didn’t alert anyone he was coming.

He has never been so frightened to return somewhere.

But _Aurora_ is not _somewhere_. Hux is not _somewhere_.

Hux is _home_.

And now the fear seems so apparent, so clear that he wonders how he didn’t see it before.

He is frightened, because he does not know if he still has a home here.

Before he can open the pod door, he hears Haas’s voice outside of it, and the click of his boots on metal.

“Who in the galaxy sent this pod? _None of you_ know? _No one_ in hangar two-twelve knows _anything_ about this pod? Stars, you’re all _useless_.”

Kylo opens the pod door just to frighten Haas, then, and is pleased when he succeeds in doing so.

Shouting in fear, at first, Haas drops his holopad in surprise, and asks, “…Lord Kylo Ren?”

Murmurs and whispers break out among the crew behind Haas, and Kylo steps down from the pod. He is uninterested in interacting with Haas, or anyone in the hangar, really. There is only one man on his mind, and everything else that is, or ever has been, or ever will be, is irrelevant.

He hears Haas call after him, demanding answers, but Kylo ignores him.

As he walks through the familiar corridors of _Aurora_ , stormtroopers and officers alike stop and stare at him. It is nearing the end of the normal work cycle – Hux should be getting off work soon. He rushes to the control bridge, and time stops, just as he dreamt it would.

That tall, slim silhouette glowing by the light of the massive viewport; Hux is standing in full uniform – a greatcoat, and hat on as well. He is looking over some glowing screen with Phasma by his side, gesturing vaguely with his free hand, and talking softly to her.

She senses the shift in atmosphere before anyone else, and turns first to see Kylo standing at the end of the bridge.

He is alarmed to feel rage burst from her like a gamma ray to his chest. He doesn’t know if nausea can spread to one’s chest, but it certainly feels like that.

Beyond their masks, they can’t see each other’s expressions, and Kylo is too turned upside-down to investigate her head and see why she is so furious, but then he hears that beautiful alto of Hux’s voice.

“- but I suppose there’s still the matter of choosing… Phasma? What? What is it?”

Hux turns, and now the entire control bridge is facing Kylo.

He puts his hand on the hilt of his lightsaber, a nervous tic now well developed, and he watches Hux’s eyes follow the motion. More paranoid than he last saw Hux - both of them. The air is different.

Hux’s face gets reddish, he glances in a few directions, minding his present officers, and then walks across the bridge. Phasma does not follow him, and more than anything, this seems to be for Kylo’s safety.

As Hux comes within ten feet of Kylo, he bites out between his teeth, “ _what_ are you doing here?”

Kylo’s heart sinks at the unhappy introduction, and his brows curl in, “I told you I would return,” he says plainly.

“Yes, you told me a lot of things, didn’t you,” Hux mutters bitterly, so only Kylo can hear, “I’m busy. Get off the bridge. Ask one of the troopers for quarters. I have nothing prepared for you, seeing as I _had no idea_ you were boarding.”

_Can I not stay with you, in your quarters?_

**_Get out of my head, Ren._ **

Kylo instantly pulls back, feeling burned.

Something is very wrong.

“Lord Kylo Ren,” Jardom says softly.

Kylo looks off to the side of the bridge – Jardom is seated in the midsection of the control bridge, his seat turned to face him. He appears very unsettled.

“We were under the impression you were never returning.”

Kylo’s brow furrows.

“What gave you such an impression?”

“General Hux said –"

“ _Silence_ , Officer Gillash.”

Jardom’s mouth shuts before his title is even fully announced.

Kylo turns his head back to Hux in confusion.

He has no desire to embarrass Hux in front of his officers, but all he has to say to Hux is of a delicate nature, and if he cannot speak directly into Hux’s head, he has to find them some space.

“I need to speak with you. Privately.”

“Well, I’m sorry to report that some of us have schedules aboard this ship and I am-"

“Almost off work,” Kylo intercepts, “I have not forgotten your work cycle. When can I have your audience?”

Hux looks part way nervous, part way devastated, and part way furious. Kylo has no idea what any of it means. It’s putting him on edge, though. On a sharper edge than he was on even before he boarded his travel pod.

“There is work I have to see to once I’m off the clock. Contact Haas to schedule a meeting.”

“Hux, what are –"

“That is _General_ Hux to you, you _ingrate_ ,” Hux snaps furiously.

His anger is so palpable, the entire bridge turns away, as though slapped, but for Phasma. She is watching closely – everyone else seems too sensitive to secondhand anxiety and embarrassment to watch anymore unfold. They’re listening closely, though – they always are.

Kylo goes to speak again, then senses a sudden spike of panic, but it is not near them. He turns around, shuts his eyes, and zeroes in on the energy.

His eyes flash open.

“Nali.”

“What?”

“Nali,” Kylo says in a hurry to Hux, “Something is wrong – I feel her fear. She is in danger. Where is she?”

Phasma takes off faster than either Hux or Kylo, and they follow her lead – she clearly knows where Nali is, and based on her own aura, Kylo can sense that she has some idea of what is happening.

It’s abundantly clear that neither of them are glad he is here, but at least they both still trust his word enough to heed his warning and take it seriously.

As he runs down the corridor with Phasma and Hux, he can’t help but suddenly feel orphaned. He looks at Phasma’s cape billowing behind her, and it is as if she has put up a concrete wall between them, as if he is not even there to her.

And worse, Hux, beside him yet far away. His brilliant mind in a million other places, and none of them kind or forgiving. Kylo is unsure yet what has happened, but all he knows this moment is that he has arrived just in time to prevent something terrible. He can sense it.

He hears Luke Skywalker’s words again, _“these milestones in learning how to use the Force – they don’t arrive late, nor early. They happen precisely when they are meant to.”_

He feels certain that he is meant to be aboard _Aurora_ this very moment, but it feels as though every soul on board is trying to push him off and out.

He shuts his eyes, breathes in deeply, and out slowly.

_Focus. Get to Nali. Protect her. Fix the rest after._

He is unsure what is broken, but he will fix it. He _will_ fix it. He has to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dun duN DUNNNNNN  
> Hope you enjoy the updates! ;]


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: there is no description of the attempt, but there IS an attempted sexual assault at the beginning of this chapter. Furthermore, there is a violent murder that is described in some detail. Please read carefully!

Kylo doesn’t mean to throw the stormtrooper as violently as he does, but once it’s done, he has no regrets.

That he could not control the force with which he threw the trooper is the first sign that his emotions are out of check, but he’s too concerned with Nali, and Hux, and Phasma, and the cyclone building inside him, to see the warning for what it is.

When they find her, Nali’s uniform is torn, she’s visibly shaking, and several officers and stormtroopers have gathered around the opening of the hall to see what has happened.

Phasma rushes to Nali, unclipping her cloak, and wrapping it around her. She takes off her helmet, holds it under her arm, and looks with urgency and concern at Nali.

“Did he – are you okay? Do you need to get to the infirmary? I will perform the kit if it’s too-"

“No, he didn’t… you got here in time,” Nali answers nervously, voice much too soft, “I'm so sorry. I thought… I thought I could be left on my own.”

Nali’s eyes begin to water, and she bites her bottom lip to try and keep from letting the tears fall. She glances between Hux and Phasma, who are closest to her. Kylo is keeping his distance, watching the would-be assailant groan on the floor where he landed after Kylo had sent him airborne.

“I have failed you,” Nali says tearfully, “I-I have never – I never expected an attack of this kind, and I – I don’t deserve this rank. I am too weak, I could not even begin to -"

“That is quite enough.”

All heads turn to Hux’s low, reverberating voice. He removes his gloves, pockets them, takes off his hat and greatcoat, handing it off to a nearby stormtrooper like they might be a coatrack. He walks up to Nali carefully, and shows her his open palms.

“I am uninterested in harming you. Is it okay for me to touch you?”

Nali nods more times than she means to – it could be the tremors – and Hux plants a firm hand on her small shoulder. He looks at her sternly.

“Listen to me closely,” Hux starts, staring intently at her, “You are not weak, and you have not failed.”

An aborted sob hiccups from Nali’s throat, and Hux’s grip tightens to express more security.

“He is a fool for having mistaken your clemencies for weaknesses,” Hux explains, glancing at the trooper on the ground, then back to Nali, “It is an error he will not have the chance to make again.”

He lets go of Nali and reaches into the side of his boot, pulling out a dagger Kylo has only ever seen in visions and memory exchanges. The blade of it shines under the artificial lights, and the handle of it looks like it might be ivory or some kind of bone, refined and glossy. He shows Nali the dagger, and says, “you have never had reason to use violence against these people, but now the time has come for you to set the record straight. You are more powerful than them, sharper than them, and your life has more value than they can conceptualize.”

Hux looks at two other stormtroopers and orders, “take him out to the training hall, remove his armor, and hold him to the floor,” – Hux looks at a group of officers, and orders them, “gather as many people as you can, and get them to the training hall immediately.”

Everyone scatters, Phasma and Hux flank Nali protectively and make no objections when Kylo follows close behind. He can sense Nali’s shame – she has avoided eye-contact and not spoken to him because she already feels too much attention has been drawn to her in an unflattering light. Kylo can sense that she is heartbroken that seeing him again is tainted with this event. Kylo wants to reassure her that he doesn’t think any less of her, but he thinks his silence will be more of a comfort for now.

Once they get to the hall, Hux steps up onto a platform that Nali and Phasma are known to use when running drills – it allows them to see all of the room, wide and with high ceilings like an auditorium. Hundreds of officers and stormtroopers are gathered like a herd before the stage, and at the center is GU-4471, being held down by two of his peers. He looks frightened, but anger and humiliation thrums through him; Kylo is close to snapping his neck.

Nali looks up at Hux, and Hux looks down to meet her eyes.

“Would you like for his death to be quick or slow?”

Noise erupts from the hall at that, and GU-4471 starts thrashing, now truly fearful. Nali looks wide-eyed at Hux, and asks, “…I am going to kill him?”

Hux nods, and takes one of her hands in his, “would you like my help?”

A tear falls from one of Nali’s bright pink eyes, and she nods again, still shaking. Hux removes Phasma’s cloak from Nali’s shoulders, giving it to Phasma who stands close behind and he maneuvers his dagger to fit between their hands. He walks her up to her assailant, and orders the stormtroopers keeping him captive to stand him up.

Hux faces the gathered audience, and announces, “Nali Vitaan is your superior. Her life is easily worth a thousand of yours, and the actions of one of you represents the inaction of all of you. Remember this day. Remember this attempt on Nali Vita’s dignity, and whenever you have, or overhear some treasonous thought, know this is your fate.”

He looks back to Nali, and asks again, “now, quick or slow?”

“I-I think I’d prefer for it to be quick, sir,” she replies, grasping desperately for steadiness in her legs and voice.

“That is merciful of you,” Hux tells her.

Together, they walk to stand by GU-4471 who is pleading for his life, tears streaking his pale face. Hux lifts their joined hands and places the side and point of his dagger against GU-4471’s jugular.

“We will make an incision two inches deep and four inches long. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Nali replies more readily.

The man thrashes again, prompting Hux to order one of the troopers to hold his head still. The man cries for mercy, anger still lacing his voice, but it’s as if no one hears him.

Hux waits for Nali’s arm to move before helping her along. He guides her hand in its motion and pressure. All that can be heard in the room is the tortured, gurgled cry of pain that is GU-4471’s last noise.

He crumples to the floor, his blood pooling around his head. He looks up at Hux, gasping, wide and teary-eyed, and as way of noting his silent plea, Hux responds by placing the arch of his boot onto his neck and pressing down with all his weight. Nali swallows back acidic bile and watches GU-4471 as he dies. She doesn’t feel strongly about whether he would live or die after trying to attack her – she is still in shock and can’t think or feel much of anything at all.

She does feel a sense of relief, however. And admiration. Admiration for Hux.

When GU-4471 stops moving and twitching, and his blood is dripping down the front of the platform, Hux takes his dagger back, removes an embroidered, black and gold handkerchief from his pant pocket and wipes off the blade. He looks down at Nali, and says, “you will not be hurt again. I will not allow for it. Trust me when I tell you that you are safe, and any other mindless animal that dares to lay a single, careless paw on you will amount to nothing more than a nameless, bloodless sack of flesh like our dearly deceased, here.”

She nods her understanding, and then Hux looks out at the gathering.

“Have I made myself clear?” Hux asks, fury projecting his voice, “Officer Nali Vitaan has my full permission and _encouragement_ to take any life she sees fit taking, whenever she pleases. If you so much as sneeze in her general direction, and she decides she doesn’t much care for that, prepare to join GU-4471.”

With a sneer, Hux looks down at the body, and pushes it off the platform by his bloodied boot. It collapses on to the ground, and several officers and stormtroopers jump back as the corpse hits the floor with a thud.

“Remember your _place_ ,” Hux orders with vitriol, his voice like snake’s venom and carrying through the hall, “You may think you are above men, but you have only as much worth as Nali Vitaan assigns you – and she assigns much more worth to you pathetic fools, by the way, than I assign you. You should be grateful for her mercy. Bow!”

No one moves, seeming shocked and confused by the order, and Hux shakes with rage when he bellows, “ _bow to her_!”

In waves, officers, engineers, stormtroopers alike all fall into varying kneeling positions with their heads down. Hux slips his cleaned dagger back into his boot, and says unto them, “do not forget your mortality. You might feel above men, but you _are_ men. Men that can serve a purpose, or men that can be stuck like pigs and displayed for an audience that will soon forget your face. You are men. You will all die. Whether that happens quickly, slowly, by my hand, by the hands of the Republic, the Rebellion, Nali Vitaan, or those of time, is entirely up to you.”

He turns back to Nali, and whispers, “say something to them now, or they will credit this to me. Assert your dominance, Nali.”

She nods at him once, more receptive to taking orders than being offered pity, and her face falls into a serious mask, hiding away her shame and fear. She steps up next to Hux and looks down at the masses bowed before her.

“The General is right, and you should heed his warnings,” Nali starts, “Remaining where you are, look up to me.”

The heads of her audience look up, necks craned to see her. She passes her eyes over many of them, and says calmly, “what the General says is more true than you understand. You are human men, and can die like any other man, but when you see my alien skin, my alien eyes, feel my unfamiliar presence, and when you hear my drill commands, I need you all to remember one thing.”

There is a beat of silence and Nali’s jaw clenches before she says dangerously, “I am no man. I am not simple and so mortal as you are. My death will be glorious and dignified, whether you are there for it or not - I can take the right to that dignified death from you. I take anything from you - because I am not you. I am not a man. I am not human. And different, in this case, does mean dangerous.”

After a few beats, she looks back to Phasma and Hux and says, “I would like to go to my quarters now.”

Phasma steps toward her, but Hux holds out his hand to stop her.

“I will escort her. I want every trooper that will fit in this hall running suicides until they need medical treatment. That they will go without. Am I understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Phasma agrees, a wicked shine in her eyes and an undoubtedly torturous plan brewing behind them as well.

“Are your legs weak at all, Nali?” Hux asks her, grabbing his hat from the stormtrooper that had followed behind him.

“Yes,” she admits softly enough so only Hux will hear, “but I can walk.”

Hux contemplates her for a moment, and then murmurs, “you will lead me out of the hall. Once we make it out, I will help you to your quarters.”

Nali gives him a quivering smile, her eyes glassy again.

“Yes, sir.”

She straightens her back, sets her eyes forward and, on legs she can’t feel, she descends from the stage, and Hux follows close behind, grabbing his greatcoat in a flourish. Kylo can sense Hux’s intention to wrap Nali in it and carry her, as he once carried Kylo to safety.

Being ignored to this degree is too much.

Kylo can’t stop himself.

His blood boils and every insecurity, every jealousy, every nightmarish thought bubbles with warning, but he doesn’t listen to it.

“General,” Kylo calls after him.

Nali continues out, but Hux stops to look at Kylo from a few yards away.

“You’ve denied me the pleasure of sparring with you and your dagger,” Kylo starts, knowing Hux won’t be able to turn down a combat challenge in front of so many subordinates, “I must set a match. I will wait for you on the second to last level. You must do me the honors.”

The cold, but livid glare Hux gives him doesn’t feed into his fears.

No.

Now, Kylo is starting to fume as well.

“Yes,” Hux grits, “Of course.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Kylo and Hux get into a very violent, physical fight.

When Hux walks into the room, Kylo has already managed to make marks on the floor where he’s been pacing madly, like a caged animal on display. Hux stands in the doorway silently when he does arrive; his face is unreadable, his heart beating an even, steady, thirty-three beats per minute, his energy type one of strict control.

He steps into the room after a moment’s hesitation; he almost seems to count his steps until he reaches the middle place between Kylo and the door, and then he stands there in wait. Near to the door, but not so far that he might leave without some sort of prompting.

Kylo looks him over; he is still in his uniform boots and pants, but he’s wearing his grey collared shirt, unbuttoned by a few at the top.

Kylo only notices because he can see the shimmer of a necklace.

New dog tags.

Unable to explain why the replaced tags burn him so, Kylo wants to leave in a silence, and never return - just to spite Hux, or punish him, or punish himself, maybe – but he wants to weep too, and he wants to tear his hair out, and he wants to thrash, and bite like the caged beast he feels close to becoming, but then, he has been awake for nearly seventy hours straight and besides being exhausted, he’s a cosmic maelstrom of vexation, a twisting vortex of uncertainty. And he is in so much want for comfort. In so much want for Hux. So much want he has never had the self-control to deny himself.

His first step towards Hux is cautious, but when he senses no anticipatory anxiety from Hux at his approach, he practically runs to him, sweeping Hux into his arms, and kissing him bravely, uncaring if Hux will kill him for it or not; if Hux kills him for it, let this be how he dies, then.

Hux gasps, but allows himself to be picked up off the floor, twirled around as if either of them truly feel celebratory, and not only does he allow Kylo to kiss him, but he kisses back.

It’s as though the very marrow of Kylo’s bones had been overheated, and now, they are finally cooling. He could cry for how much relief floods him at that first touch. He would ask Hux about his hesitations later, he would ask about Hux’s anger later – he needs _this_ now, and he does _need_ it _now_. He _needs_ Hux against him, he _needs_ to kiss Hux, to touch Hux’s hair, his face, his lips, his waist, and cherish him, adore him.

When he puts Hux back on the ground, Hux curls his arms around Kylo’s neck and pulls him forward, kissing him again. Kylo goes willingly, captivated, and thoughtless. He moves his leg just so, and feels Hux hard against him; Hux gives a stuttered moan, and Kylo feels something like a possessive wave move through his entire back and chest. There’s possessiveness, but thrilling satisfaction too. He makes some noise like a growl in response, something he can’t control that comes from deep in his chest, and he pulls back enough to gently push Hux down onto the mats.

He crawls on top of Hux, and Hux runs his hands through Kylo’s hair, kissing him deeply again, tilting his head and sweeping his tongue into Kylo’s mouth, arching his back, and spreading his legs. It’s all so warm, and hard, and soft - all at once; it’s so open, and submissive, Kylo feels all the blood in his body rush to his abdomen.

To feel Hux sprawl out under him, open up his legs and arms, and arch his body for more contact, to encourage Kylo’s tongue into his mouth – it’s easily the most erotic thing Kylo has ever experienced, and he wants more of it even as he satisfies that want. He grinds down against Hux, the both of them getting breathless quickly, but oxygen means very little to Kylo, as it stands.

Kylo’s hands itch to wander, so he sits up on his knees, pulling Hux up with him by his waist. He pets Hux’s sides through his shirt, thinking how he might just tear the thrice-damned thing off when Hux tangles his hand in Kylo’s hair, pulling lightly, and rendering him rather useless.

He watches with glazed eyes as Hux stands, his free hand going to his belt, and Kylo’s mouth waters; his heart thumps, and he’s unable to put it back in check. He wouldn’t want to, if he could, anyway. He likes that Hux, and wanting Hux, makes such a wild thing of him. 

He watches Hux pull his belt out from its rings, and he shuts his eyes, the excitement of it all making him dizzy. As he shuts his eyes, though, the air makes a quick change, the energies transform, and before he can make a single movement, Hux’s hand in his hair is a sharp, intentional pain, and Hux’s knee comes slamming into the side of his head, knocking him over and nearly out.

He starts to sit up only to have Hux kick his abdomen with brutal force, and knock the air out of him. He grabs at his stomach once he hits the floor again, and writhes on the floor, coughing in an effort to keep from vomiting from the pain, and bringing a hand to the left side of his face that will surely be a dark shade of blue by the next cycle.

He opens his eyes once he physically _can_ , and he looks up at Hux; his slim, freckled, shoulders are moving with every heave of his huffing breath, and there’s a familiar solar flare burning in his eyes.

“ _What the fuck, Hux_!?”

“Supreme Leader Snoke told me what you did!” Hux shouts, his lips wet, and kiss-swollen, his hands clenched, “Supreme Leader told me _everything_! It was all just a power grab! And _I_ fell for it! Like a _complete dunce_! I _fell for it_!”

“Fell for _what_?” Kylo demands to know, Hux’s words taking longer than usual to make sense of in his rattled head.

Clearly still enraged, Hux kicks him again, as some sort of retaliation for daring to ask him to repeat himself, and Kylo inwardly curses those steel-toed boots as he loses his breath. He scowls up at Hux, pain, anger, paranoia, and hurt, taking over every fiber of his body, making him more dangerous than he has been before.

Making him more dangerous than he's ever been in Hux's presence before.

“No answer?” Kylo asks rhetorically, voice rough and gravelly, “Or is this some sort of fun role-play you like to act out with your infatuated blonde officer?”

“What?”

“You _fucked Haas_ ,” Kylo accuses knowingly, “I know already. And whatever you _mistakenly_ think I tricked you of, I _didn’t._  And even if I had, I wouldn’t have left my deceptions with Master Snoke. Unlike _you_ , with your mind an untrained circus show anyone can have attendance to, parading that jailbait around – was it good, Hux? Was it worth it? Is he tamer these days? Do you seduce all those you seek to control, or was it just me?”

“Oh, _please_!” Hux rolls his eyes, “I’m not even going to dignify that outlandish accusation with a response! And I’ve learned fairly recently that you are _untamable_ , Ren. Any tactic to reason with you like someone with a _functioning brain_ is _useless_! You’re just another power-hungry, thieving Sith lord, angry at the universe because he feels like he’s owed something for being born so _miserable_!”

“I am _not_ a Sith, and I am no _thief_!” Kylo shouts, getting to his feet, still hunched in on himself from the pain resonating out from his core.

“Oh no?” Hux asks, eyes comically wide and tone highly sarcastic, “Then why was my fucking _greatcoat_ in your _closet_ , Ren?”

“Why were you in _my quarters_?” Kylo counters, voice rising.

“Answer the _fucking_ question!” Hux yells, his body wired and in wait for more violence, “ _Answer_ me! If you’re no thief, what was _my_ greatcoat doing in _your_ closet?!”

“I can’t believe you have the gall to call _me_ the thief when _you_ were the one wanting to steal from _me_!” Kylo argues, “You even confessed to it! Why did you kiss me?!”

Hux sneers, and his eyes are glassy, but Kylo doesn’t notice that part - the glassy eyes. He doesn't see Hux's eyes for the clear windows they are. His anger only allows him to see the ugly curl of Hux’s upper lip, and the threat of Hux’s once beautiful, sharp canines.

“Well, you’re the one always bragging about being an omnipotent not-a-Jedi-not-a-Sith, miserable, son of a bitch! Why don’t you just dig in my head and _find out for yourself_!” Hux screams, throwing his arms out, “Why don’t you just _take it all_ , Ren!? You are so _owed_ , aren’t you!? For all your _suffering_ , since _no one_ has ever suffered before! For all of your _pain_ , since _no one else_ has ever known pain! Aren’t you so  _owed_ it?! _Why don’t you just **take it, then**_!”

It’s a loud, violent challenge set before Kylo a hundred times before, and he has always conquered it.

Passion, illness, hysteria, anxiety, betrayal, rage, self-hate, doubt, and desperation, all make for a violent cyclone, though. One more powerful than Kylo can put a leash on this time.

Kylo outstretches his hand, throwing Hux back against the mirrored wall so violently that it cracks all around him, and leaves a webbed indent. Kylo steadily approaches Hux, unsure if he’s choking the man, unsure of how much power he is unleashing unto Hux, unsure at all of what he’s doing, or thinking, or saying.

“As you command, _General_ ,” Kylo whispers hatefully.

Funny, in a sad, terrible way, how it takes so long to give a vow validity, how a vow’s authenticity can only be proven by time passed, and how in less than a nanosecond, it can be broken.

The very moment he is in Hux’s head, he knows it’s wrong.

The very second his power unravels the secrets of Hux’s mind, years of a lonely, twisted life, all in a single glimpse, he knows he’s made a mistake. He knows he’s gone too far; too far to ever turn back.

And he knows, too, that he has committed a betrayal unlike he, or Hux, has likely ever known.

He regrets it as he’s done it.

But it’s too late.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've posted like 4 chapters in as many hours but fuck it man  
> It's ready to go up and that cliffhanger suCKS  
> I'll be on vacation next week, visiting friends, so I probably won't update next week. So, I guess consider these your updates? lol I'll try to get more chapters edited and completely ready for publication before I leave, but anyway, blame the chapter-spam on that!
> 
> So, here's the next chapter. I think you'll all get a feel for what the next couple chapters will look like, as the format and POV is changing dramatically. (We are officially inside Hux's head) (Yes, you will get all the answers to all of your questions that you've ever had throughout the series, be patient while I lay it out for you <3)
> 
> TW: Lots of child abuse and neglect, for those of you that are triggered by throwing up or gagging - that also happens in this chapter. Much more importantly there is a very, very violent scene that takes up the entire bottom half of the chapter. If you want to skip over the brutality, hit up the end notes and I'll tell you what you missed. To avoid the gore, skip from "Hux grips the dagger..." until "Two of the guards start escorting his father away..."

 

 

 

 

 

**Aurelien Roane Hux.**

**Aurelien Roane Hux.**

**Aurelien Roane Hux.**

**Aurelien Roane Hux.**

**Aurelien Roane Hux.**

 

That sacred name is like a curse someone whispers into Kylo's ear.

He isn't meant to hear it.

He isn't meant to know it.

But he does now.

He hears it, he sees it, and he feels it.

There are flashes like lightning – faces, some familiar, and some not, sensations that are gone too quickly to identify, sensations that are altogether too unfamiliar to identify, and then like a record being set straight, colors, and sounds twisting into shape –

 

_“ **Ssshh** ,” Hux whispers._

_The droid beside him beeps a few times, and he smiles at it, dimples showing, “no, no! Shush! Or it will fly away!”_

_The sky is clear, the grass is soft, and Hux is nine standard years old. **Newly** nine years old. _

 

_The droid he’s nervously trying to make quiet gifted him a sketchpad, and pencil set, for the very occasion. He was so thrilled at the prospect of putting it to use, he ran barefoot out into the family estate in only his pajamas - something he knows the droid isn't meant to allow him to do. It's unbecoming of a young man, Hux understands, to run around barefoot like a primate, but he was simply too excited to care. The droid followed him, whirring and worrying after him._

_He’s found a bird he wants to draw. The bird is small, and common, but Hux doesn’t mind what his first subject will be. He just wants to draw._

_His hands are small, thin - even for a child – he ought to have more baby fat on him, but he doesn’t know that, and even if he did know that, he doesn’t mind the way he looks._

_When the bird whistles, he whistles back. He has only recently mastered whistling, and he likes to whistle until his lips go numb. Then he laughs at the way it tickles, to try and talk._

_The droid imitates the noise, and soon the three of them, the droid, the bird, and Hux, are whistling together, and Hux smiles gently, tucking the pad against his chest, and leaning in against the droid._

_“Thank you for this, mama.”_

_The droid beeps slowly back, and Hux shuts his eyes, staving off the enormous sadness._

_“I know you’re not. But we should pretend.”_

_Hux was never taught binary, but he has learned it through exposure since he was born. He hasn’t known any human adults other than the guards at the estate, and his father. He’s learned how to speak Basic through them, but the binary he learned all on his own._

_The droid leans in toward Hux, and if it had arms, it might hug him. Hux likes to think it would, anyway._

_“Do you know how you were born?” the droid asks through a series of beeps and whistles._

_“Father said I wasn’t born. People who are born have places, but he said I came up from the ground like a weed, and that’s why I’m secret. Weeds don’t have places either – they get ripped up from the soil usually. He says I’m lucky he hasn’t ripped me up.”_

_“That is not how human reproduction works,” the droid informs him._

_Hux shrugs, because he doesn’t really care where he came from._

_“What in the Hells is going on out here?”_

_Hux jumps at the sound of his father’s voice, straightening up, but before he can think to hide his sketchpad away, his father is before him, snatching it from his hands. He looks at the sloppy drawing, and looks genuinely baffled._

_“What is this nonsense?”_

_“It’s a bird,” Hux answers honestly._

_“I know it’s a bird, you **ingrate** ,” his father snaps, “Don’t get smart with me, boy.”_

_“I’m sorry.”_

_“What’s the droid doing out here?”_

_Hux glances to it in worry, then back to his father, “it was coming to take me back inside. It knew you would be displeased. I should have listened right away. I’m sorry, father.”_

_His father crumples the half-formed drawing of the bird, and throws it aside. He tosses the pad onto the ground at Hux’s feet, and says, “if you’re to do anything with that poor man’s paper and pencil, practice your penmanship. It’s atrocious. Now, get inside for breakfast.”_

_“Yes, sir.”_

_His father turns his back, and once he’s inside, the droid beeps something apologetic to Hux. Shrugging the apology away, Hux picks up the crumpled drawing, smoothing it out with hardly capable hands. He replies to the droid, “it’s okay. No, it’s okay. Just means I’ll have to memorize the things I like most to draw. I can do that. I’ll memorize that bird, and draw it just as good as if it were right in front of me. Just don’t tell father.”_

_“Our secret?” the droid asks in binary._

_Hux smiles at it, and replies, “yes, our secret.”_

_Time passed Hux by, and his droid was fine company. With little to compare it to, Hux rarely wanted for things. He sometimes longed for other children to talk to, and he'd sometimes act out interactions in his head, but by and large, he was content, if a little lonely. He knew no other way of living._

_Towards the end of that standard year, a small pod lands by the front of the estate, and Hux can see it from the balcony of his bedroom. The clouds outside are a dusty grey, and there’s a chill on the air. His brows curve in, and his droid bumps up against his leg, asking after him. He doesn’t take his eyes off the pod as his brother descends from it._

_“No,” Hux tells the droid, “I don’t like it when Brendol is home. Why can’t he stay at school for the holidays?”_

_“Perhaps it is as your people say, ‘a blessing in disguise,’” the droid beeps out, “When Brendol is here, your father does not seem as irate.”_

_“I suppose,” Hux agrees._

_The routine is familiar, at least._

 

_Hux stays hidden most of the time – if Brendol chooses to engage him, he is a little distant, but not unkind - and Hux craves the socialization, and so puts his every effort into being what he thinks Brendol wants._

_Hux eats in a different room than his father and brother, when Brendol is home. He is unsure why they do this – he was too young when that particular rule was instated for him to remember why. He doesn’t like hearing Brendol’s stories about the Academy, anyway, and that’s all he and their father ever discuss over meals._

_The Academy sounds frightening, to Hux._

_While Hux is on his way to brush his teeth one morning, Brendol steps out of his room, and calls after him._

_“Ari,” Brendol calls._

_Hux turns around, “yes?”_

_“What was that droid going to your room for, last night?”_

_The droid went to tell him stories he could fall asleep to._

 

_Hux’s face feels hot; his ears, and neck too._

 

_He swallows with some difficulty, unsure why he is scared._

_“Nothing. It just came in to see that I was in bed when I was meant to be.”_

_Brendol doesn’t look convinced, but he nods anyway, “okay, then.”_

_Hux nods to his brother, and hurries to the bathroom, anxious, and unsure why._

_When his droid returns to him with no memory of who he is, Brendol is already on a pod back to the Academy._

 

* * *

 

“… from the time I was nine until I was ten, that droid was my sole companion in the world. Visiting from school, Brendol saw the droid wake itself up one evening, though, to come visit me – it would read me stories, taught me to draw, conversed with me until I could sleep. He told our father about the oddity, and as punishment, he did not deny me my droid. No, he sent it back to me after he wiped the droid’s memory of me entirely.”

 

“What did you do?”

* * *

 

_Hux tears his room apart, tears streaming down his face, and his hair mussed from having pulled and pushed at it. He is alone, more alone than he is used to being anymore, and he can't stand it._

 

_There are three droids in his room, beeping, and whirring loudly, worried about him, and he wants them to leave. The one he used to call “mama,” keeps calling him “small human,” and he flips his writing desk over, knocks over two lights, kicks a hole in the wall, and that’s when his father slams the door open._

_So small, so thin, and weak, but he glares up at his father through big, watery eyes, rage emanating from him._

_His father takes a look at the room all destroyed, his eyes wide with anger. He finally looks down at Hux again, and smacks him hard across the face._

_The sound of the contact echoes against the walls, and Hux doesn’t move. He keeps his head tilted to the side where his father has hit it into place, and he loosens his small fists._

_“You are to clean this mess immediately, Aurelien! If I see you act out like this again, you will have never known a pain like the one I will put you through. Do you understand me?”_

_“Yes,” Hux answers meekly._

_“ **Do you understand me**?”_

_“Yes, sir,” Hux repeats, louder._

_Disgruntled, but seeing no further point in staying, Hux’s father leaves the room._

_In true solitude, Hux falls onto the floor, and refuses to cup his face where it burns. The droids around him start to clean up what he’s thrown about, and he lets them._

_He looks at his favored one and feels something shut down inside his head._

 

_He hopes it’s his feelings._

 

_He doesn’t like his feelings._

 

_He wishes he were more like Brendol that way – Brendol doesn’t seem to have feelings, ever._

****

**_Maybe if I try hard enough_** _, Hux thinks to himself, **I can turn mine off.**_

* * *

 

 “Hmm? Nothing. There was nothing to do. The droid had forgotten me and that is how relationships are formed – memories. Shared memories and experiences. With only one set of memories, I was alone again. Brendol apologized to me much later – he said he hadn’t known what our father would do, but I think otherwise. Brendol was not treated with much more kindness than I was. I think he knew what would happen… if I had a vision – a vision as you described. Just a glimpse of a person, the feeling that I might meet them someday… perhaps that would have prevented unnecessarily prolonged suffering.”

 

* * *

 

 

_Hux is twelve, impossibly pitted against Brendol, and he’s still not sure why._

 

_His father has been looking for an excuse to get rid of him, always has been, but lately, he’s been underfeeding Hux, denying him clean clothes, and it all started when he asked for a new bed, as he no longer fits in the one he has._

 

 

* * *

Beneath the cold sweats, nightmares, countless sleepless rest cycles of migraines – there is a sense of pride. Kylo can see clearly – a twin mattress, uncomfortable and thin. Hux being young and his legs already growing long – too long for the mattress he had, but no one would replace it with something more comfortable for him. Kylo cannot sense why. His blankets too short as well, couldn’t cover his feet. He spent his childhood in a bed much too small.

When he was able to obtain his own quarters and spend his own credits decorating it, it would seem he wanted to make a point.

To whom, Kylo was unsure and did not investigate further.

 

* * *

  

 

_His father had told him to appreciate what he has, to 'know his place,' and since then, it seems like his father has been trying to will him out of existence. Now, all Hux has to protect himself from Brendol is the dagger Brendol gifted him during his last visit, and his own budding wit._

_Cleverness serves him well - he knows he can’t hide forever, though._

_Brendol had been almost kind to him in the past standard year. He had told Hux that the dagger belonged to a high-ranking officer Brendol defeated in a combat exercise. He gave it to Hux, telling him that it might give him strength. Hux didn’t mind that Brendol implied his weakness – he **is** weak, and he knows he is weak. _

_He wonders if he should just let Brendol find him. He is scared to die, but Brendol is kind enough to make it quick. He won’t let Hux suffer._

_He suddenly hears leaves crunching beneath boots, and he pulls his knees up to his chest, backing up further against the trunk of the tree he is hiding in the branches of. He glances down from his perch, and watches Brendol as he surveys the area, hunting him._

_Brendol doesn’t think to look above - a simple, tactical error. No one ever thinks to look up, though._

_Hux grips the dagger, and thinks that if he aims just right, and with just enough force in the throw, he could, perhaps, embed the dagger into the back of Brendol’s head._

_He doesn’t take the risk, though, and he lets Brendol pass through without finding him._

 

_He supposes that he can think all he wants about letting Brendol kill him, but his survival instinct is too strong an urge to subdue. The logical choice to allow Brendol to kill him is strong, but not as strong as the emotional choice made by the inner-workings of his body and mind._

_He spends two full days in the woods like that, cowering and waiting, and when he and Brendol finally do find each other, Hux is sure he is about to die._

 

_Brendol chases him, and Hux runs, faster than he ever knew he could – he runs out into the open backyard space of the family estate, and lets the light shine down on him. The sky is blue, and cloudless, for the most part. He is hoping a guard, or a droid, might come to his aid, might protect him, but there is no one to be seen by the house, but their father._

_The Commandant is out on the back patio, a holopad on the table in front of him and a tall glass of something that Hux’s dry throat is desperate for. He screams for his father’s help, but his father doesn’t move._

_Hux is tackled to the ground from behind, and he and Brendol dissolve into a violent, panicked wrestle. Hux thinks he might have an opening, and so grabs the dagger from his boot, but during their struggle, Brendol is able to take it from him._

_The ground fight continues until there's another opening, and Hux kicks Brendol in the groin as hard as he can, disabling him for a few moments. Disabling him long enough to give Hux time to slip out from under him, and run. As he runs near their father, he begs for help again, and, in return, his father mocks him for having lost his only weapon._

_“And lost to the enemy, no less,” his father chides, standing up from his seat._

_“I don’t want, I don’t want to –" fitful tears start falling down Hux’s face, his lips shaking, hands wracked with tremors so violent they spread through his small body like convulsions, “I don’t want to – father, **I don’t want to** – Brendol has never hurt me, I don’t want – I don’t want to hurt him. I don’t want to do this, I don’t want this, I don’t want this, please, **please** , I can’t -”_

_“So **useless** ,” his father laments, “Whether Brendol’s hurt you before is irrelevant. He will hurt you **now**. If you want a chance against him, you might want a weapon, Aurelien.” _

_“ **Please** – I cannot –"_

_“I know you can’t,” his father replies easily, coldly, “If you’d like to surrender, feel free to, but the shed is open – if you need a weapon, I’m sure you can find something in there. It might grant you a few more minutes of breath.”_

_The Commandant feels sure Hux will die. There isn't time enough to ruminate on that - even so, Hux stalls for a second, and then hears Brendol recovering and standing up – he panics, and rushes to the shed, knowing Brendol is not far behind._

_He finds a hatchet._

* * *

 

 “Can I ask you something very personal, Hux?”

 

“Certainly.”

 

“Did he suffer? When you killed Brendol, did he suffer?”

 

* * *

 

 

_When Brendol finds him, he’s got the hatchet in his two small, shaking hands, and he’s swinging it wildly, telling Brendol to get back. Brendol finally seems to consider Hux a real threat, and he backs up, but his face is calculating – he’s trying to find an opening, and Hux can’t think straight enough to know if he’s giving one._

_“I don’t wanna do this,” Hux cries; his voice is raspy, and dehydrated, his stomach feels too empty, too light, and all the blood in his body seems to be pumping his heart._

_It’s beating so fast, he thinks he might faint. It’s beating so fast, he thinks he might die._

 

_The handle of the hatchet is inserting painful splinters into his hands, and he is full of fear, and full of hatred, and despair. It feels like so much emotion that his body might not be able to contain it all._

_The memory from there on out is blurred – Brendol attacked him first, using the stolen dagger to puncture Hux’s side. To Hux, in his shock, it feels like little more than a bee sting. The dagger goes too deep, though, fixing itself into the bone of one of Hux’s ribs, and Brendol can’t manage to pull it back out._

_Weaponless, Brendol runs toward the shed, and that’s when Hux throws himself onto Brendol, knocking them both onto the ground again. He feels blood spreading through the side of his shirt, and the tactile experience is nauseating - it's cool, it's hot, it's sticky, it's spreading like a bacteria. He sits on Brendol’s stomach once he manages to turn the older boy over, and then he swings the hatchet down._

_“I don’t want this! I don’t want to do this!” Hux cries, blinded, maybe by shock, maybe by arterial blood spraying in his eyes, "I don’t want to! **I don’t want to**!”_

_The hatchet keeps coming down onto Brendol, beyond Hux's control, and Hux isn’t looking at where it’s landing, or what he’s doing when he’s wielding it. He hears Brendol blubber something, and Hux glances down long enough to see blood pooling in Brendol’s mouth, spurting from him, spraying from him, and pouring down the corners of his lips, and over his chin._

_There are deep gashes all over his upper torso, and he’s wide awake, he’s fully aware of everything happening, he's likely in agonizing pain, and Hux cries harder for knowing, and for knowing too, that he can't stop. His heart pounds faster, impossibly faster –_

_“Ari!” Brendol murmurs weakly, past the blood, “Ari! Stop!”_

_“I don’t want this! I didn’t want to! I didn’t want to! **I didn’t want to**! You’ll kill me! You’ll both kill me! **You’ll kill me**!”_

_Hux only learns much later, that he left twelve strikes in his brother’s flesh._

 

_The finishing blow was the one to the neck, apparently, nearly decapitating Brendol. He was awake for everything else, though. Awake for the eight strikes that came before it._

_When reality starts crashing in again, Hux’s hands are covered in blood – **he** is covered in blood, and beneath the grime, and sweat, collected on his skin from staying out in the woods for days, and now, the blood, he doesn’t feel human anymore. He feels like he’s wearing someone else’s skin - or **something** else’s fur._

_When his father returns, the man curses Brendol, infuriated._

_“What was all the training for!? That foolish child! Killed by the hands of something even smaller, and even more defenseless than a child!”_

_His father seems to bemoan all the universe for this short-coming._

 

_Hux can't speak yet._

_“All of the food wasted on him! All of the credits! The years of training! And he is killed by a **hatchet** by **Aurelien**?!”_

_Body weak and tortured, Hux stands unsteadily, his knees buckling, and he doesn’t understand how there’s blood dripping down his legs, but it’s everywhere. It’s everywhere, and he’s nauseous, and he's sure he’ll be sick, though he has no food in his body to purge._

 

__

_Two medical droids, and three guards hurry to the scene – one guard is talking to Hux, but Hux can’t hear him. It’s like someone talking to him from under water. He can only see his father, pacing in circles, throwing his arms in the air in a fury, ranting about wasted potential, about how he's stuck with Aurelien now, and how useless it all is._

_Hux’s arms fall to his sides as he drops the hatchet._

 

_The clouded hearing is turning into ringing, that is gradually getting louder. Something inside him is breaking, or being born, or dying, or all of those things at once. His inner elbow hits the hilt of the dagger, and he looks at it, knows enough that he shouldn’t dislodge it, as he’ll only lose more blood. Perhaps he will die today no matter what._

_Two of the guards start escorting his father away, trying to calm him down, and some sort of drunken version of a panic takes over Hux’s body, forcing his legs to move forward._

_Before he knows what he’s doing, he’s chasing after his father’s back, screaming until his throat is raw, and scratched - for help, to please come back – for anyone to **please** help him. His voice is like broken glass, loud for how much he is crying, sounding sick and tortured._

_There is bile burning his esophagus, a fear unlike he’s ever known making a home somewhere in the caverns of his mind; no, this fear will not leave for a long time yet. Hux knows this as he feels it blossom and grow, knows it as he hates to feel it fester and boil. This fear will make a good friend of him. How many nights will he go without sleep, he wonders? What will become of him? Will it matter at all?_

_He’s killed Brendol._

_He’s killed his older brother._

_He killed his older brother as he begged Aurelien not to. He **begged**._

_More tears cascade down his face – **hysterical** tears – tears from deep inside him that have not come to the surface until this moment. Tears that have been bitten back for years. Tears that make him gasp, and grip his stomach in pain._

_He only stops chasing his father to heave onto the ground. It all burns coming up – he thinks to himself that maybe it’s stomach lining._

 

_That’s his last thought before he finally faints._

* * *

 

“Yes. He did.”

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you skipped the gore, all you need to know is that Hux, at the age of 12 was forced to brutally murder his brother with a hatchet. His brother begged for mercy and called him by the nickname "Ari," which only threw Hux into a more panicked frenzy where he threw the hatchet around carelessly. The panic Hux endures having to kill his brother is life-altering and clearly very traumatic.
> 
> That's all you missed if you skipped!
> 
> incredible artwork by @pembroke! ; u ;


	7. Chapter 7

* * *

 

“Who is this?”

 

“That is my brother.”

 

“That’s right… you told me you had a brother. Is he not of the First Order?”

 

“He certainly would be if he weren’t dead.”

 

“He does not look much like you.”

 

“No, he didn’t. He had a different mother.”

 

* * *

 

_Unhappily, Hux stares at himself in Brendol’s full length mirror. He is still too short to fill up the mirror like his brother once did, still too tall, though, for even Brendol’s bed to be comfortable. After having killed him, his father gave Hux the uninhabited room, and even allowed Hux to start eating in the dining room with him. Their conversations were brief and cutting, when they occurred at all. All the same, the Commandant got Hux fitted for a uniform, and he’ll be leaving for the Academy soon. He hasn’t slept for several days, fear coiling in his veins like hissing snakes._

_After his fight with Brendol, it wasn’t until he woke in bed, with medical droids moving around and about him, that he knew there was more injury to him than just the dagger in his side. His rib was broken during his fight with Brendol, a punch to the face (that Hux doesn’t remember feeling) fractured the upper arch of his eye socket, and Brendol had somehow managed to slice him along his back._

_The cut is diagonal, and, evidently, made with the tip of a blade. Hux thinks it probably happened during their chase, when Brendol was close behind him. He probably swung that dagger around, hoping to hurt Hux enough that he would fall, or falter. Brendol must have cut open the back of Hux’s shirt, cutting the flesh of his back with it – Hux had too much on his mind at the time to feel it, he supposes. He was too concerned with surviving, then. Pain could be ignored. For the sake of something greater, pain could always be ignored._

_There is a part of Hux that worries, though, that there is no greater something he’ll have gone through the pain for._

_Brendol is buried in an unmarked grave near the family plot, but not in it. Hux’s father said that’s because he is 'a disgrace to the family name for his failure.'_

 

_Hux wonders what that makes him._

_Watching the sealed casket, knowing Brendol’s body was inside it, descend into the ground, was like watching a part of himself be buried. Hux decided right then, that he did not want to be buried at all. He would like to be cremated, and scattered somewhere else – somewhere beautiful. Nowhere near the family estate, nowhere near where his father will be laid to rest, and where Brendol’s ghost undoubtedly haunts._

_As he watched Brendol’s casket lower into the unmarked grave, he hoped that someday he’ll find love somewhere._

 

_His favorite droid used to tell him stories about princesses and princes, Angels, people of high station, monsters, and men, and the stories all had to do with love, and love sounded wonderful. Hux isn’t sure he knows what love is, though. Not by firsthand experience, anyway. Objectively, he seems to understand the concept of love, but he doesn't know that he'd recognize it, if ever it were reflected back to him in the eyes of another person._

_He knows through stories, that it drives knights to storm castles full of dangerous creatures in search of their special person. He knows through stories, that it motivates people of prestige to make illogical choices, leave behind riches, fortune, and fame, for a life more quiet and mundane. He knows through stories, that love comes in many different forms, if it’s strong enough, it can last forever, and that it is coveted by many._

_Beyond that, love, or even the idea of love, has remained an enigma._

**_“Hey,” Brendol approached, bag slung over his shoulder, “No goodbye?”_ **

****

**_“Goodbye,” Hux muttered bitterly, without looking back, picking blades of grass that stuck out from under his hand-me-down shoes._ **

****

**_Brendol sighed, put his bag down on the ground, and took a seat next to Hux on the back patio. Hux had recently turned eleven standard years old – as always, the only recognition of this milestone was given to him by his droids – and he was feeling resentful of Brendol. Brendol, after all, had his birthday celebrated, while everyone seemed to try to forget Hux was born at all._**

 

**_He couldn’t show that, though - he couldn't show Brendol how bitter he was – the only way to keep people was to convince them he didn’t need anything from them. That was a long-standing principle Hux had understood from a very young age. So, he pretended a lot. He pretended he didn’t need anything from anyone, and that nothing hurt._ **

****

**_Sometimes, he even believed it, himself._ **

****

**_“You know, I won’t be back home from combat training for a long time. I’ll bring you back something, though. If it’ll make you feel better. What sort of souvenir would you like?”_ **

****

**_“I don’t need anything," Hux promised._**

****

**_Nodding, Brendol accepted that answer, and looked out into the middle distance. His travel pod would be there soon, and Hux didn’t understand why Brendol was wasting his time there, instead of conversing with their father._**

 

**_Hux thought Brendol may have noticed how Hux had grown - seen how much time passed between them, without so much as a single indication of brotherhood and_ ** **_camaraderie exchanged. There was nothing between them. No love. No family. Just blood._ **

 

**_Shared blood, when all is said and done, is not much to be going on, as it turns out._ **

 

**_Seeing Hux grow taller, and more matured, though, may have made Brendol apologetic, or nostalgic, or something borne between the two. That, Hux reasoned, was perhaps why Brendol chose that time to spend with him, rather than their father._ **

****

**_“Hey, Brendol?” Hux asked._ **

****

**_“Yeah?”_ **

****

**_“Did you know your mom?”_ **

****

**_Brendol gave pause, looking at Hux’s profile with some measure of surprise._ **

****

**_“Yeah. I knew her. She died when I was pretty young, though.”_ **

****

**_“Was she nice?”_ **

****

**_“I guess.”_ **

****

**_“What happened to her?”_ **

****

**_With a deep sigh, Brendol looked out towards the woods again, and answered, “a Rebel killed her at some fancy event father had taken her to.”_ **

****

**_Hux’s brow furrowed, “he didn’t protect her?”_ **

****

**_Brendol shrugged, “sometimes things happen too fast, Ari. Father didn’t know they were in any danger when he took her there – I’m sure he wouldn’t have taken her somewhere he knew would be dangerous. He loved her very much. And help just didn’t get to her in time.”_ **

****

**_“Isn’t it part of their vows, though?” Hux asked, feeling genuinely confused, “When people get married, don’t they vow to protect each other?”_ **

****

**_“Sometimes the universe gets in the way, Ari,” Brendol replied simply._ **

****

**_Broken vows should not be so simple a crime to commit, though - Hux was sure._ **

 

**_Hux frowned at the grass, and replied, “well, what good is a vow, if a vow can be broken?”_ **

****

**_“It’s not about…” Brendol trailed off._ **

****

**_Hux looked to his brother imploringly, and Brendol looked back at him with slanted lips. He ran a hand over his hair, and explained, “vows aren’t about whether they’re kept, really. Vows are about intention. Father intended to protect her, but something happened that was beyond his control, and his vow was broken, whether he wanted it to be, or not. A vow isn’t like a promise, Ari. A vow is… a vow is more like a wish. A wish people make, for the sake of love.”_ **

****

**_“What does that mean, though? How do you know when you love a person enough to make a vow?” Hux asked, “How do you know you love a person at all?”_ **

****

**_“Wow,” Brendol chuckled, “You’re full of questions today, huh?”_ **

****

**_Thinking he had asked too much, Hux blushed, embarrassed, and looked back at his turned-in feet, scolding himself inwardly for talking too much. Brendol didn’t hesitate to answer him, though._ **

****

**_“You remember how father told us that there is no such thing as will power?”_ **

****

**_“Yes,” Hux answered, feeling better in a more academic discussion than an emotional one, “He said it’s not real, because it can’t be measured, and everything real can be measured.”_ **

****

**_“Right,” Brendol said, “Love is a thing that can’t be measured either, but it’s too real to ignore. It’s not that it’s invisible, and can’t be measured – it’s that it’s too big to be measured. It’s too… it’s too all-encompassing to be measured. You’ll know it when you feel it.”_ **

****

**_“How?”_ **

****

**_“I wondered the same thing, once. You know, I asked father once, what it was that he saw in your mother,” Brendol mentioned conversationally, “He was drunk at the time, and talkative. I never would have asked something so personal, otherwise.”_ **

****

**_Hux nodded in agreement, as if to say ‘of course,’ as if asking a question like that might have otherwise brought Brendol great harm and that the great harm was expected, even common knowledge._ **

****

**_“He told me that your mother had the greenest eyes of anyone in the galaxy, walked like she was dancing on air, and had the longest, most flowing, and beautiful hair he’d ever seen. He said it was like flickering flames, and he was ‘enchanted,’ by her. Enchantment. That is the marker of true love, I think.”_ **

 

* * *

 

“…are you able to unbuckle this from over there?”

 

“You mean, through the Force?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“You want to see a magic trick, do you?”

 

“Nevermind.”

 

“Oh, Hux, just admit to me that you’d like to see me perform for you. I’m happy to. Just ask it of me.”

 

“…I’d like to see you use the Force.”

 

* * *

 

**_Brendol and Hux met eyes again, and Brendol continued, “when you look at someone, and the emotions they elicit from you – just their eyes or their hands, something innocuous they say or do – they are suddenly imbued with poetry and magic somehow. They will have the power to enchant you – that will be the start of love. That’s how you’ll know.”_ **

 

* * *

 

“Yes, I know, Millicent. It is rather…”

 

“Rather what?”

 

“Enchanting…”

 

* * *

 

_“Aurelien!”_

_Hux straightens his jacket, pulling it down by the hem, and he closes Brendol’s bedroom door behind him. He descends the long, curling staircase from the second floor to the ground floor, and sees the front doors to the house open. There is a travel pod waiting outside._

_He looks to his father, and the Commandant says, “credits will be deposited into your account for whatever you might need. If anyone asks you something personal about me, or your brother, you keep your mouth shut. I’m handling the press. The Academy expects great work from you, Aurelien. As it stands, you are unfit to even **think** of the Academy, but you **will not** fail, do you understand?”_

_“I understand.”_

_Hux picks up his bag by the open doorway, and is only paused by his father’s hand on his shoulder. He looks at Hux sternly, something grave, and nearly dangerous, in his ice blue eyes._

* * *

“You keep your heart at such a low rate. Does nothing rattle you? How do you manage it?”

 

“Do not mistake composure for ease, Ren. I trained my heart – it was once said in front of me ‘never let them see you sweat,’ and it effected me deeply.”

 

“Clearly.”

* * *

_His hand tightens around Hux’s shoulder for a brief second, and then he advises, with critical seriousness, “never let them see you sweat.”_

_Hux nods once, his father releases him, and walks out to the pod. He knows if he looks over his shoulder, he could see the line of the trees, and a corner of the shed out back._

_He doesn’t look over his shoulder._

_He feels a phantom wetness from his chest down to his knees, a sensory memory of Brendol’s spilled blood that keeps coming back to him whenever he least needs it._

_He will not fail._

_He **cannot**._

_He will surpass his father’s expectations – the expectations of the Academy, even. He will shape shift into whatever the First Order needs him to be, and he will be the best of it there has ever been. Brendol will have not died for nothing. And whatever part of Hux died with him – its perishing will not be in vain either._

_He will be a Commander, someday – no, he will be a **General**. He will be respected, he will be admired, he will be stronger than Brendol, or his father, he will be quicker than them, more skilled than them, smarter than them. He will be more than his father ever was, or will be. Then his father will **have** to look at him with some measure of respect. Then his father will not lay his hands on him again. _

_Someday, Hux fantasizes, he will live alone, and he'll live well. He'll live with a bed big enough for eight grown Banthas, and he’ll have pets, and droids, somewhere where the weather never gets too muggy, and when it gets cold, he has more than enough blankets to keep him warm._

_Someday, he won’t have to hurt anyone to stay safe. Someday, he’ll have met a quota – he’ll have hurt enough people, been alone long enough in misery, or will have destroyed enough Rebels, that he won’t have to destroy anything, or anyone, anymore. Someday, he’ll be able to create instead of destroy – he’ll be able to draw, and paint, he’ll build, and decorate his own home the way he wants it to be, and no one will be able to order him around._

_Someday, he will control his destiny. Where he goes, who he is, what he does – someday he will feel like more than a puppet on a string. He will take the dagger once embedded in his ribs, and use it to cut himself loose, and he will be free._

_Someday._


	8. Chapter 8

_The Academy, as it turns out, is a sea of diversity – people of all creeds, colors, species, and walks of life. The culture shock leaves Hux jumpy, and worried about offending others with his cultural and social ignorances, but the shock leaves him curious, too. He has been locked away his entire life, and while he’s been socialized by droids since infancy, he is nervous to speak to anyone else. No one seems inclined to speak to him, anyway, but he plans to change that._

_He thinks to himself that a social faux pas is almost immanent in his case, so all of his free time, the first standard year he is there, he spends in the library, collecting data files on his personal holopad. He starts small, learning the statistics of the Academy, then the statistics of the most heavily-populated planets, their beginnings, and present cultures. Then he starts studying wordy, heavy, materials with titles like, “Understanding Other Cultures,” “Cultural Sensitivity,” “You and the Culturally Diverse,” which leads him to topics on sociology, psychology, and their applications, and practices._

_“Cognition, Behavior and Memory,” “The Science of False Memory,” “Crisis Intervention Strategies,” “Consciousness Explained,” “Reverse Psychology and How to Use It,” “Mob Mentality,” “The Structure of a Cult,” “Fear and the Uncanny Valley,” “Human Thought, Expanded,” – it all explains so much, and it all starts leading him down into the philosophy sections. Philosophy and human behavior seem intrinsically entwined, as far as Hux can tell, so he simply follows where the holo-files lead him. The philosophy is what excites Hux the most, actually, and those most severe questions of the universe and its makings and meanings keeps him in the libraries long after classes. The thrill of learning about philosophy and its forefathers might have to do with knowing how much his father despises the topic._

_“What If?” and “A Guide to Existentialism,” – “The Perversion of Virtue,” “The Eternal Pity,” “Being and Time,” “The Fall,” “The Birth of Tragedy,” “The Portable Atheist,” “Human, All Too Human,” then, “The Courage to Be,” “Evil in Modern Thought,” “How ‘God’ Works,” “The Will to Power,” – Hux consumes it all. He excels in all of his classes, is awarded higher marks than there are technically allowed to be given, and all the while, his personal holopad is overwhelmed with data._

_Data he absorbs like a sponge._

_He doesn’t notice his perfectionism budding as it grows; he only notices how much control it’s taken over his life when, after a physical fitness test, he’s warned that everything was perfect, but for his blood pressure. He is instructed that he needs to lower it. So, he sets about learning everything there is to know about human blood, the human heart, circulation, and its functions. He doesn’t return home for the holidays for all his extracurricular studying._

_He doesn’t want to go back, anyway, and, besides - his father doesn’t ask, or send for him._

_Instead of dwelling on that, he spends his time alone in his dormitory, lying on the floor, listening to downloaded Theta and Delta waves from his holopad to engage his parasympathetic nervous system, and master the tempo of his heart. He decides that average will not do, the status quo just won't stand, not where he is concerned – he wants to have such a low heart rate that the nurses and doctors at the Academy will be in awe of him. He wants to exude a calm that is contagious – he wants people to **want** to be around him. He wants to feel a calm he has never actually experienced before._

_He tries and fails at meditation, until he decides to fake his confidence for the time being. One of his teachers used the phrase, “fake it ‘til you make it,” and although she had been referring to methods of public speaking, he finds he can apply it here, too._

_He is not someone who is calm, but he can pretend to be someone who is calm. He starts calling the act of lying and constructing this illusion of easy-going, cool-headedness, ‘composure,’ because it sounds much less egotistical than 'confidence,' it’s closer to the truth, as composure is a structure built over long bouts of time._

_His growth spurt helps his mask of composure along, though Hux isn’t entirely sure why._

_During the second standard year, Hux makes his first attempts at socialization since his arrival, and they fail miserably. Without meaning to be, he is cold, detached, awkward, and doesn’t appear to understand the micro expressions of his peers. He is clearly missing social cues never taught to him. Things droids never could have taught him._

_The library does not offer any data files on “how to be a person,” though._

_And Hux **did** check._

_People generally avoid him, and he learns to avoid them as well; it’s for the best, for now. He hopes this will change in the future. He is committed to learning how to befriend these people, he wants them to respect him, and he is as hungry as ever for companionship. His roommate is rarely ever there for purposes other than sleeping. He has his own small clique, and Hux is awash with self-pity when he hears them all laughing together in the halls._

_It is during the next holiday break that Hux finds himself staring down at his holopad in bed, interrupted from his reading because he realizes, quite suddenly, that no one knows his name._

 

_He has been at the Academy for two standard years, and not a single soul knows his name._

_All of his uniforms have patches that read, “Cpl. Hux,” and that’s all anyone calls him._

_Grey, clouded misery could have been his first inclination, but he beats that back with a stick. Instead of isolation and sadness, he allows himself to feel a rush of power at the realization. A single name, short, and sharp, like the hiss of a snake – that is all his peers know of him. That he is intellectually superior to most all of them, and his name is Hux._

_He decides then, that he will never tell anyone his full name – he wants to become a symbol, one of power, and control. And there is power in a name, a name encompasses an idea, a feeling, a concept, and it can become a symbol, and symbols speak for themselves. Symbols start, lead, and see through to victory revolutions, time and again. It’s everything he wants. Just three letters._

_There is a quick daydream that flashes before Hux’s eyes; he is older, but not too old, and he is stronger, broader, taller. He wears a white uniform with shimmering badges, and medals, and he can control his destiny, yes – he can control more than that. He can control the galaxy._

_Emperor Hux._

_He is so instantly gratified by the fantasy that he starts diving headfirst into finding ways to alter legal documents. He is intent on finding a way to override every known system and database, erase his identity so that only he might know his full name, and no one else will ever know._

_He pauses only for a second to tell himself that, if he ever comes to love a person, he will tell them._

 

_That will be the part of himself that no one else can ever have, but for the person he loves._

 

_The thought of that, too, is pleasing._

_Hux’s years at the Academy pass much like the years spent on his family’s estate. He is alone for the most part, he thinks to himself that he is content, because he knows no other way of living, and he rises to near impossible standards._

_His perfectionism takes a sharp turn, though, around the time he turns fifteen standard years old, and he starts having stress-induced migraines from just a hair being out of place. He develops obsessive compulsive behaviors – if he fixes at one uniform sleep three times, whether the other one needs fixing or not, he fixes at it. He cuts his hair every two standard weeks, and he uses the straight of his dagger to help him make his part an even, perfect line, until he’s memorized the motions._

_He irons every uniform before wearing it, even for ordinary days of class; he parts his food into groups on his plates at every meal hour, and eats every section within a specific timeframe, and in a particular order. His want for control over his surroundings becomes an ominous thing Hux is too young to realize is hurting him._

_If he bruises one elbow during physical training, he purposefully bruises the other in the same place for the sake of symmetry, and then aggressively does not think about the uselessness of doing things like that. When he is being tested on his pull-ups, crunches, timed runs – all of his forms are studied, ideal, and **perfect**. _

_When graduation is upon him, and he is well on his way to combat training, he has already picked up Master Gunnery Sergeant, taken control of all his life’s documentations by erasing his name across the board, he is fit, healthy (if a little unstable), and only realizes he has not been home for five standard years once he’s crossing the graduation stage._

_He supposes that his loneliness has hit some sort of plateau._

 

_He cannot be more alone than he already is. And, he is as alone now, as he ever was._

 

_He tries his best not to think about it._

_Combat training starts as a maddening challenge, and only worsens. The segment of the Academy that is designated for combat training is secluded, and cut off from the enormous campus Hux had grown familiar with enough to call home. He hates his roommate, hardly has time to sleep, never mind studying anything outside of what they scream at him to learn, and he’s poisoned at dinner on his first week._

_Hux is nothing if not sharp, though – he learns quickly, adapts, overcomes, and excels. At times, Hux still feels like that small boy headed to the Academy, so weak and incompetent that he is even unable to look back at the sunny hill his brother died on, telling himself he’ll shapeshift into something greater than anyone has ever known or imagined._

 

_He hopes that when combat training is over, he will feel shifted. He will finally feel completely transformed._

_He hopes that the little boy screaming, sobbing, and covered in arterial blood turning cold will stop waking him up in the middle of the night. He hopes to shed the skin of his old life, his old self, and walk out as someone new. Someone of worth._

_Hand-to-hand combat training is all well and good, and Hux is an agile, strategic fighter, but he prefers when they train with weapons. When the weapons are being used, the classes are smaller, the training is more intensive and it gives Hux a chance to shine._

 

_There, Hux gets to know a handful of his classmates well, through that intensive weapon combat training._

_Candurous Nuruodo, Ooris Katarn, Leon D’Jac, Skaara Garamonde, Donas Wendin, Kara Picus, and a handful of others wind up on his radar, so to speak._

 

_The first day of training with the group, the instructor for Hux’s specific class notes that something is wrong with his holopad – that Hux’s first name is not showing up on the roster. Hux tells him there is no error, that his first name is 'classified information.' That teacher smirks at him, seems to like his drive, treats it like a well-played prank, and starts calling him by the nickname “classified.”_

 

_He prefers to use his dagger in training, and anyone with a personal weapon is encouraged to use it, so he does, as many of his other classmates do. He learns the ways of the sword too, though. Sometimes the class only uses staffs made out of titanium. They are thin, and aerodynamic. Perfect for sparring. Hux likes those as well._

_Sometimes people die during training._

_Sometimes it is no one’s fault._

_Sometimes it is the fault, or folly of the fallen._

_Sometimes it is purposeful._

_Kara Picus accidentally kills Donas Wendin during class one day. Hux is unaffected, not having known either of them well, but Kara Picus just about falls to pieces. She’s put under suicide-watch that same week._

_“Fire watch,” is what the instructors call it – what it really is, is suicide-watch._

 

_There are so many students that attempt suicide during combat training that there is a special room designated for those most at-risk. Their clothes are taken from them, they are put in a room that locks from the outside, and has only a hole much like a drain to use as a toilet. Hux pities those that find themselves there. He thinks this design must be counterproductive somehow, but he hasn’t the authority to question anyone’s methods on preventing suicidal ideation in prospective officers. Those that find themselves there can be locked in for days, sometimes._

_Every night, someone is randomly assigned “fire watch,” and that means they will be denied their six hours of scheduled sleep, and report to a room above the holding cell. This allows the drill instructors to sleep through the night without worry – if something happens to the person in the holding cell, the person on “fire watch,” will fetch a superior officer, and appropriate actions will be taken._

_Hux has been given “fire watch,” before, as he’s been at combat training for several standard months now, but something is wrong this night._

 

_Something is wrong in this memory._

_It is a hot, humid night when Hux is assigned this particular “fire watch.”_

_His roommate is snoring loudly as he leaves his room with his bed pristinely made, his ironed uniform hanging for the next day, and his appropriate night-uniform freshly pressed. When he arrives at the “fire watch,” room, he relieves the young woman there of her duty, and she slumps off exhaustedly. Hux thinks to himself that she should care much more about her posture and what impressions she gives off, that she shouldn't let people see that she is so weakened or tired; then, he reminds himself that this is why people don’t like him. He is too critical of others. It is difficult to not hold everyone else up to the standards he holds himself to, but that rationalization doesn't make people like him any more or less, so it matters little._

_The room is more like a cylindrical hall, situated around the top of the cell; one-way windows making it so that the watcher can see the captive, but the captive cannot see anything but tinted glass above. There is a railing that runs along the outside of the glass, inside the watch room, and that is all that is there to lean against. No benches or seats – nothing there that someone might fall asleep on._

_Familiar with this routine, Hux walks up to the window, and wraps his hands around the top railing._

 

_He looks down, and sees a young man with black hair, huddled in on himself; probably already asleep._

_Hux doesn’t bother keeping track of the time as it passes; he is only relieved once someone comes to relieve him, so what does it matter, watching the time go by? It wouldn’t do him any good to watch the hours of sleep he’s being denied tick away. So, he just watches the young man at the bottom of the cell with patience in his features, fatigue in his bones, and drills running through his head like broken records._

_Senses heightened, and trained into a dangerous weapon by this point, Hux feels the presence of someone long before they actually approach._

 

_He continues to stare down at the young man with dark hair; he pretends he doesn’t realize someone is watching him. His kinesthetic sense is, and always has been, bordering on hypersensitive. He can sense that this person is not one of his superiors – they are someone close in size, weight, and height to him._

_They are somewhere behind him._

_That doesn't usually mean anything good - in controlled settings, or the wild._

 

_He grips onto the railing, thinking that he’ll use it to his advantage, keep one foot touched to the ground, and swing his other leg out, high, where he can estimate the stalker’s head might be._

_Everything that happens from that thought on is lightning fast._

 

_He feels his stalker move behind him, he twists around, holding the railing, and ready on the offense, but his stalker ducks in time, and then something hits him brutally on the back of the head, and he blacks out._

* * *

“You won’t tell me, will you?”

 

“Tell you what?”

 

“What happened at combat training.”

 

“You honestly want to hear more horror stories like that?”

 

“A quarter of the food is poisoned, children being pitted against one another to the death, forced to overcome impossible odds with little to no supplies – yes, it sounds like a horror, but something more than a horror happened. And it happened to you… I think that whatever happened is what made you want to kill yourself."

 

* * *

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: READ THIS CAREFULLY
> 
> THIS ENTIRE CHAPTER IS A GIANT TRIGGER.  
> IF GORE, SELF-HARM, SEXUAL ASSAULT OR DESCRIPTIONS OF POST TRAUMATIC STRESS SYMPTOMS ARE TRIGGERING TO YOU, DO NOT READ THIS CHAPTER.
> 
> At the end notes, as always, if you cannot read this material, I have summary of what you missed at the bottom. This is the most graphic and upsetting chapter there will be. It is meant to disturb the audience. Please, please read carefully.

* * *

 

“I had never been safe in my life at all. There was no person who I could rely on – there was no safety in people… and when I left for the Academy, there was no safety – no one cared about anyone and again, I could live or die and who cared, right? Who cared? When had any day of my life been any different? When had there – when had there been a day that I had not thought ‘today I might live or die,’ and not felt a thing? No one could protect me at the Academy, I was alone and alone was safer than investing in others. And combat training…no one protected me. No one protected me.”

 

* * *

 

  

_It takes a few attempts for Hux to wake up fully._

 

_He’s on the ground, on his knees, his face being pushed down to the floor, and his entire body is in searing pain._

 

_He knows what’s happening even as it all seems impossible, and unreal._

_Someone is muttering hateful things about him, taunting him, telling him how much he is hated by everyone – that “they,” whoever “they,” are, "see right through him,” that he must think he’s "so much better than everyone else."_

_Hux can’t understand any of it. The pain is too overwhelming._

 

_He begs for it to stop - he verbally, audibly, begs to be let go of, and he can't remember having begged for anything since he was twelve years old, and hoping desperately that he could somehow find a way out of killing Brendol or getting himself killed by his own brother. That thought, that he's never begged anyone for anything other than to keep his young life, only makes his begging louder and more desperate._

_The back of his head is wet, and cool, and there is a pain spreading outward from some epicenter there – he worries there might be a skull fracture, in fact._

 

_His attention is only drawn to the sensation, because his head is pulled back by a rough hand, he's tilted at an odd angle, and he is then kissed on the mouth – it is not what Hux was told in stories._

 

_It is not love._

 

_It is an act of violence._

 

_One Hux has never known before._

 

_He wants to do something to defend himself, but his limbs feel bloodless, and cramped, his hands are shaking, and his eyes are watering for more than the pain._

_He’s terrified._

 

* * *

  

“I was kissed only once. I – it was someone – I didn’t want to… I didn’t want to be kissed. They kissed me, even though I had made it clear that I didn’t want that.”

 

“What did you do?”

 

“I killed him.”

 

* * *

 

_His attacker drops his head again, keeps talking, keeps muttering those hateful things, and that allows Hux to match the voice to a face despite being unable to see it. His eyes tightly shut, his brows knit in, and his voice is a choked, confused rasp when he asks, “D’Jac?”_

_Leon D’Jac takes him by the scalp again, then, and slams his head down onto the hard floor as some sort of threat, or punishment, for having identified him. Hux loses his breath against the pain resonating in his head. He’s sure he must be concussed, if not more seriously wounded._

_He doesn’t want to die like this._

_So undignified, so used, so victimized – he was supposed to be an Emperor. He was supposed to be untouchable. He was supposed to be respected, looked up to. He was supposed to be so much more than this._

_He can feel blood trickling down his legs, and his thighs shake – he hates that sensation, he hates the feeling of blood on him anywhere, and always has, and he thinks he’ll be sick, but his stomach only turns itself over, and stings with some foreign pain he thinks is anxiety manifesting like knives in his abdomen._

_His hands, wracked with tremors, seek purchase somewhere. His seeking fingers are groping at the floor, but he still feels lost at sea, like maybe there is no floor beneath him at all. He finds the railing, and grabs onto it as he's rocked forward, and some petrified child in him wishes someone would hold his hand through it._

**_Please_** _, Hux begs to a God he doesn’t believe in, **make it stop.**_

 

* * *

 

“May I help you with that?”

 

“My headache?”

 

“I told you the Dark side of the Force can heal.”

 

“You said heal mortal wounds, this is hardly –“

 

“I can make the pain stop.”

 

* * *

_Hux’s shoulders hunch up by his ears, and he swears he can hear his own skin ripping like seams of thin cloth. He doesn’t want the tears to fall, but they do. He keeps his face hidden away from his assailant, so that the bloody tears won’t be seen. He thought he was done crying. He thought the shameful child in him that sobbed, and begged for mercy was dead._

 

_He thought the worst had been over._

**_Please, make the pain stop. Make the pain stop. Make the pain stop. Make the pain stop._ **

_It’s not until this moment that Hux realizes he means that phrase in more than one way, for more than the torture he’s enduring this very moment._

 

_His tears start falling in earnest, his lips shake, blood is sliding down his neck like raindrops against a window, blood, too, is still trickling down his thighs, and onto the floor where he can hear it dripping at a rhythm like the tick of a clock._

_He swallows a sob._

**_Please. Please. Make it stop. Make the pain stop. Make the pain stop –_ **

 

* * *

 

“I can make the pain stop… will you let me?”

 

* * *

 

_He notices sweat gathering on his forehead, and he bends his arm to discreetly wipe it away, his father’s last words to him haunting the caverns of his crumbling mind._

 

_It’s all he can do to keep composure. It’s all he can control. It’s the only power he has left. So, he wipes the sweat away._

_A voice in his head he doesn’t recognize is born. It’s like some mixture of his father’s voice, and his own, and it’s stronger than him, more assured than him, better than him. It’s the person he’s trying to become. It's the person he has longed to be. It tells him sternly, **“now is the time. Shut it off.”**_

**_How?_ **

_“ **Shut it off**.”_

_With limbs still shaking, heart pounding and breaking, Hux grips the bottom rail tightly, and uses it as a base for momentum to grow from. He focuses his energy there, building tension in his fists, and arms, flexing every muscle his young body has to offer. He uses the same tactic as before, but with terror, humiliation, and pain, and fury, guiding him now; he quickly twists his body to the right, extending his left leg out, and back, so that he kicks D’Jac’s head, and in the process, knocks D’Jac over, and out of him._

_Hux scrambles to his feet, pulling up his pants, and open belt, hating how the cloth sticks to his legs with the glue of his own seeping blood, and he can feel the blood now, moving down his calves, down to his feet. His legs don’t feel secure, like they might fall to pieces like broken doll parts if he moves them too suddenly._

* * *

“Are your legs weak at all, Nali?”

 

“Yes, but I can walk.”

 

“You will lead me out of the hall. Once we make it out, I will help you to your quarters.”

* * *

_Every nerve stinging, everything too sharp, needles prickling from under his skin, trying to rip him open and escape - for the first time, Hux is too frightened to fight. Like the small boy he once was that hid in the woods from his brother, scared of some great Unknown, he flees. He retreats._

_He runs from D’Jac’s crouched place on the floor, and he doesn’t stop running until he’s made it back to his dormitory, and he’s banging on the locked door, screaming with a voice from a throat encrusted with diamonds, scratched raw. His face is wet with tears still drying, and his roommate, Ori Mythus, opens the door, looking fatigued._

_“What the fuck, Hux? What are you -" Ori stops whatever he had been saying, and places his hand on Hux’s shoulder, looking over him with waking concern._

_Hux’s eyes snap to the hand on his shoulder, and the sensation of frozen spiders crawling out from under its grip enrage him._

 

_Something stronger than loathing, something stronger than fear, or hatred, or the instinct to survive, is driving him to perceive everything, and everyone, as a threat._

* * *

 

“I am uninterested in harming you. Is it okay for me to touch you?”

* * *

_“Don’t touch me!” Hux shouts, pushing past his roommate, and Ori’s eyes widen as Hux rushes to their shared bathroom._

 

_Ori shuts the door, and yells after Hux, “Hux! Hux! What the fuck is going on!? What happened?! You’re tracking blood everywhere!”_

_Trying to catch his breath, Hux finally looks down at himself. His jacket is gone, his collared shirt is torn, and disheveled, his pants are stained with blood all down their legs, and he’s somehow without his socks or shoes. He doesn’t know what became of them. He takes one look in the mirror, and his horrified by what he sees._

_There are his eyes, bright and wide with horror, with glistening, mirroring tears and there's red._

 

_Red._

 

_Ruddy red, mucking up his face and neck, blushing from all the tears, the begging, the horror._

 

_Scarlet red, all down the side of his face, painting his neck, and ears – he needs to go to the infirmary. He needs to make sure the back of his skull isn’t crushed in, but he can’t bring himself to move._

 

_Ori is in the doorway in an instant._

_“What’s going on!? What happened!? Hux – we need to get you to…”_

_He trails off, and Hux looks at Ori, wondering where it is he could possibly need to be._

 

_He sees Ori’s eyes following the bloodstains on the back of his pants._

 

_When they make eye-contact again, they both know what has happened, what was done to Hux, and Ori is opening his mouth to say something else, something Hux probably can’t bear to hear. Mechanically, and without thinking at all, Hux reaches into his pant pocket, takes out his dagger, and flicks his wrist with precision, throwing it through the air, and into the direct center of Ori’s forehead._

_When Ori’s body hits the floor, a few things occur to Hux simultaneously._

_One, that he **can** embed a skull with that dagger, given the right angle, force, and aim. His curiosity in the woods as a child is finally confirmed._

_Two, that no one can know this happened to him. **No one**._

_Third, that he had his dagger the **entire fucking time** , and was too wrapped up in something so **useless** as **fear** that he didn’t use it._

_And the fourth realization dawns on him as he looks back into the mirror._

_He feels nothing._

_Absolutely nothing._

_Finally._

_Hux steps over Ori’s body, sets his foot on Ori's chest for leverage, and grabs the hilt of his dagger to take it back. As he wrestles for his dagger back, Hux wonders briefly on who will be in charge of the funeral and who will tend to Ori's body and belongings. It's at this thought, imagining the parents handling the news, that Hux vaguely recalls Ori once mentioning that he is an only child._

****

**_Some people have all the luck._ **

_He walks over to his bedside table, and opens up his holopad, does enough rushed research to find that he is, in all probability, lightly concussed, but not in any mortal peril._

 

_He begins to wish he were._

_He disrobes and showers._

 

_He doesn’t allow himself to seethe when the hot water stings his open wounds. He just tries not to mind it. Absurdly, he’s more concerned with Ori’s body, and when it will start to smell._

 

_Once he is as clean as he can be, he overrides the base's security system from his holopad, and has a medical droid sent to his room under the name of an instructor who he knows never checks his own database. No one will ever see the order for the droid. Besides, Hux will find some way to delete the order once the deed is done._

_The medical droids are all sworn to secrecy when it comes to who they treat for what, and how, but Hux is still cagey. The droid treats his torn skin, mending it, and soothing away the burning of its healing with a cooling gel that Hux asks for more of. The droid readily supplies him with several packets. He stashes them away in his bedside table, and then asks the droid if it has cleaning supplies, or access to cleaning supplies that will wash away evidence of blood._

_He redresses, and moves about quickly, despite the droid telling him that, though the concussion isn’t too serious, he really shouldn’t be moving around so much. He doesn’t listen, and hardly responds to any of the droid's concerns or questions. The droid helps him despite his cold shoulder, and his unwillingness to discuss the dead body in the room; the droid is not programmed to be alarmed by this – it sees many dead children, and probably can’t tell the difference between a combat arena and a private dormitory._

_It takes two hours to retrace his every step, but he does it._

 

_He cleans every drop of blood left behind, returns to the scene of the crime with his dagger in hand, but D’Jac is long gone, and the watch room is the worst of it. There’s blood on the railings, the floor, skid marks on the floor, too, he needs to buff out, and he has the droid collect, and incinerate the clothes found lying about._

_Once everything is as clean and perfect as it was when he first arrived, he collects a copy of the droid's memory of the evening, then destroys the memory of it on the droid's actual hardware, and sends it back to the infirmary._

 

_He uses his holopad to gain access to the security cameras; he alters, and deletes all evidence of him going to and from his dormitory, and when he gets to the footage of the watch room - he doesn't even dare watch what unfolded. He deletes the information, and replaces it with footage of the last time he stood "fire watch," but intentionally places an error partway through, so that it looks like someone damaged the recording at some particular point in the evening._

 

_Once that version of recorded events is playing on all security feeds, Hux leaves the watch room, and goes to the room of one of his superiors, waking them, and touching at the back of his head, claiming that Ori came to the watch room to attack him, and thought he had landed a killing blow to Hux's head while his back was turned. When he came to, he rushed to his room, shocking Ori by still being alive, and prompting him to attack again; Hux defended himself, but Ori is dead._

_The superior doesn’t seem shocked by the news or suspicious at all of the alibi. He says they’ll send help right away to take Ori’s body out of the room. He scolds Hux for going after Ori, instead of to one of his superiors when waking after the attack, but Hux simply explains that he thinks his concussion left him confused, and disoriented; he never would have otherwise undermined their authority._

 

_The superior officer accepts this explanation, and says he will put someone else on “fire watch,” for the remainder of the night. Hux tells him not to – “I think sending a medical droid to see after me will be more than fine, sir. I can complete my watch, sir.”_

_“You’re sure?”_

_“Yes, sir.”_

_The officer looks proud of him, and says, “tough as nails, aren't you? You really are your father’s son.”_

_Hux’s jaw works to keep from sneering._

_“Thank you, sir.”_

_A different medical droid is sent to stand watch with him; it treats his concussion, and even dispenses something into his veins that helps tame his anxiety. He keeps his hand on the hilt of his dagger through the rest of the night, though._

_He runs drills the next day as everyone else, he sits in class and studies the next day, as everyone else, and when intensive combat training begins, he makes sure to arrive early. He claims his favorite titanium staff, and practices against no one for a few minutes. When the instructor arrives, he applauds Hux’s drive and focus – Hux asks if he can fight D’Jac today, as it is the only classmate he hasn’t had the chance to practice with._

_The instructor tells him he most certainly can, looks forward to it even, and arranges for that. When the rest of the class trickles in, and D’Jac finally makes it inside, Hux is worried he will feel fear. But he feels nothing._

_Blessed, coveted, nothingness._

_D’Jac looks unwell, though – bruised on the side of his face, pale, and while Hux feels nothing, D’Jac looks like he might be very frightened._

**_Good_** _, Hux thinks._

_He doesn’t care about companionship anymore._

 

_He doesn't care about love anymore._

 

_He doesn’t care about respect anymore._

 

_Maybe he was never destined to have companionship, love, or the respect of his peers. But he **will** have their fear. He will have their fear if it means the death of them all. _

_His fight with D’Jac is quick; D'Jac has never been all too bright, but he is slowed down by how tired he is, and he seems distracted by Hux's steadiness, and level-headed coolness. When Hux gets the chance to get up close to D’Jac’s face, he says, “you know, you were wrong about me.”_

_D’Jac quirks a brow at him, their titanium staffs pushing against one another, and Hux explains, “I don’t think I’m better than everyone else. I don’t think I’m better than you.”_

_While D’Jac is concentrated on what Hux is saying, Hux takes the opening to pull his staff back and away, and then impale D'Jac on it. The class breaks out in noise around them, D’Jac drops his staff, spits up blood and looks wide-eyed at Hux, as Hux tells him plainly, “I **know** I am.”_

_He withdraws the staff, and D’Jac falls to the floor. The instructor is calling for medical droids, seeming surprised by Hux, but by no stretch angry or displeased with him. He seems almost excited about it, actually._

 

_The droids will be here fast, Hux knows this. To prevent them from saving D’Jac’s life, he drops his staff, and straddles D’Jac’s chest. He leans in close to D’Jac’s panicked, sweating face, and whispers, “pigs that parade as men should die stuck as pigs do, don’t you agree?”_

_He quickly slices D’Jac’s jugular open and presses down on his neck with all his weight, the heart of his palms getting bloody. Hux shifts his upper body so that the cuffs of his uniform won’t be ruined by it._

_D’Jac manages to say something beyond the blood, but Hux is too distracted to hear it; he looks back at D’Jac from his uniform sleeves, and asks dispassionately, “missed it, my apologies. What was that?”_

_The boy dies before he can repeat anything, and the droids arrive much too late._

 

* * *

  

“Does that haunt you?”

 

“No."

 

* * *

 

_Once Hux is sure the boy is dead, he stands up, retrieves an embroidered handkerchief from his jacket pocket, and cleans the blood from his hands._

 

_He absently notes to himself how the sensation no longer bothers him. Feeling blood on him anywhere used to upset him, nauseate him, but now he doesn’t feel anything. All it means is that he is safe for the time being. And even that thought elicits no feeling. He is numb. Like a miracle, like a blessing, he is numb._

_Months pass, and from that day forth, Hux’s classmates **do** fear him, and he thrives on it. _

 

_Many come to him for guidance on offensive combat strategies, and they socialize with him – finally, they speak to him. It doesn’t take him long to figure out that they are only interested in establishing rapport with him now, because they have seen the ruthless killer in him. They are all foolish enough to believe that if they offer him the attention he was first denied, that they will be safe from him._

_This is the least of his worries, though._

_His hands develop a tremor, he picks up the bad habit of biting his nails to the bed, and the worse habit of smoking, in the hopes it will calm his nerves._

_He barely sleeps._

_Sometimes when he’s brushing his teeth, he swears he can see Ori’s body on the floor from the corner of his eye. Sometimes he sees Ori sitting in class with him, the dagger in his head, and blood cascading down his face. Sometimes when someone approaches him from behind, he swears he hears D'Jac taunting him. Sometimes when he’s in combat training with other students, his opponents visibly transform into D’Jac and Hux accidentally kills several more classmates this way. He is never punished for it._

_When he starts applying to be transferred to officer's school, so that he might eventually become the General he has so longed to be, he starts hearing his father’s voice berating him, reminding him of his worthlessness, his homelessness, his weakness._

 

_And on the worst nights, he sees Brendol._

_Brendol standing in his doorway, sliced a dozen different ways, blood spraying and flowing from every crevasse, and when Hux begs him to go away, when Hux orders him to stop haunting him, when Hux insists that Brendol is dead, and this isn’t real, it isn’t real, **it isn’t real** – Brendol opens his mouth, and more damning blood comes pouring out._

 

_When Hux hides under his covers like a toddler from an imaginary fear, hides from Brendol and his pale, chopped up phantom, he can still see Brendol's silhouette standing in the doorway. It never disappears before sunrise._

_Night terrors that have him shooting upright in bed at ungodly hours, his tendency to mutter to himself, and his obsessive need for perfectionism in every corner of his - and anyone else near him’s - living spaces drives all other prospective roommates away. He winds up living in a dormitory by himself, if he doesn't count the ghosts._

_He endures many weeks of this, until he stops eating, because he can’t hold anything down. He stops speaking because it hurts to talk, and he has nothing to say to anyone anyway. He tries to stop thinking, because his head is constant pain._

_During one sleepless night, he glares at himself in the mirror, cursing himself for being broken, for his brain being faulty, and his wiring being all wrong, for allowing what happened to him to happen to him._

 

_He blames himself._

 

_He looks down at his hands, and they shake._

 

_He feels nothing._

_He cannot become an Emperor this way. He cannot become a General, even an Officer this way – not with how broken he is. The thought that someone as mindless, and meaningless as Leon D’Jac had the power to render him too broken to fix should infuriate him, but he can’t feel a single thing._

_He resolves to kill himself._

 

_It is simply the logical thing to do, with broken bits of machinery._

_The contemplations, the running of the bath, the hesitation to write a note or stop himself altogether, and just read something, and forget it all – the cutting, the bath, the prayer, and then the waking._

_He meets Phasma, and he starts to feel something again. He starts to feel the want of her company – he is comforted. He is comforted by her presence there, in the hospital, and he thinks that he can live, maybe. Perhaps, he is not beyond repair quite yet. Perhaps, Phasma can help fix him._

 

_“Fine,” he mutters begrudgingly to her, “but this better not be a regular thing.”_

_“I’ll lay off your diet once I get you back to the gym. You’ve got like two percent body fat, which is amazing, but you look like you might be made out of straw. And you’re a tall guy – with long limbs comes long muscles, and I doubt we’ll be able to bulk you up, but we’ll at least be able to do some strength-training.”_

_“I already want to die again.”_

_She shoots him a dirty look, and he smirks at her; it’s a joke, and the twinkle in her eyes tells him that she got it._

_He told a **joke** , and someone **got it**._

_She even **smiles** at him, and then buzzes for a nurse to bring him his oatmeal in revenge. He has never before been so glad someone is denying him something he wants._

**_I will never let this woman go. I refuse to. I will be the height of friendship – I will exceed all of her expectations, make myself invaluable to her, and I will keep her beside me no matter where I go._ **

_“Hey,” Phasma starts tentatively._

_“Mm?” Hux asks._

_“…do you mind if I ask… what made you do it?”_

_Hux is proud that his heart monitor doesn’t show any incline or decline in his heart rate. It’s beating at thirty-three beats per minute, the number he has trained it into. He looks down at his thin, wounded arms, and inquires, “I suppose friends tell each other these types of things, don’t they?”_

_“Sometimes.”_

_He looks at her, and sees in her expression that if he does not want to explain himself, she won’t make him, or demand anything of him. The comfort of knowing he doesn’t have to tell her gives him some strength, and the ability to share at least a part of himself._

_“You know I killed Leon D’Jac?”_

_“I heard a rumor about it, yeah.”_

_“The rumor is true,” Hux tells her, “About seven months ago he…”_

_He swallows, and they both notice the heart monitor start beeping rapidly._

 

_He glares at the screen, wills his heart rate back down to its markedly slow beat, and eventually meets Phasma’s eyes again._

_“…kissed me.”_

_“He kissed you?”_

_“ **Yes** ,” Hux says with meaning._

_Phasma goes to argue this, knowing Hux must be lying, but she very suddenly seems to understand._

 

_She knows without being told._

 

_She’s rigid, and trying very hard not to make Hux uncomfortable, but she doesn't appear to have any way of comforting Hux. She is unsure how to proceed. She nods stiffly, and says, “I see.”_

_“I haven’t been all that well since… since he kissed me.”_

_“Right,” Phasma replies, “I understand.”_

_Hux thinks to himself that there is no way for her to really understand. He looks down and away, but Phasma takes his hand in hers. He looks at her again, and she says with certainty, “I’m proud of you. He… he shouldn’t have done that. And no one else would have brought you justice, Hux. I stand by you. You did the right thing, and I will destroy anyone who says otherwise. I’m proud of you.”_

_Hux’s throat tightens, and he doesn’t know if he has ever heard someone say those words to him before._

_Proud of him?_

_**She** is proud of him?_

_How can someone like Phasma, controlled, dignified, and diligent, be proud of him, and the broken mess he has become?_

_But he can sense her honesty, her authenticity. He trusts her so immediately, and that might be dangerous – it might be dangerous to trust her, but what’s the worst she can do? Kill him? That’d be doing him a favor. And frankly, Phasma does not seem to be the type to hand out favors._

 

_He doesn't actively want to die anymore, but he doesn't particularly care whether he lives either. He thinks this is a good place to be in, psychologically. He will welcome death if it comes to him, but if he's meant to live, then at least he has Phasma now, and he will continue on, however long, and however difficult, it will be._

_He smiles at her, and doesn’t let the water clouding his vision fall down his face._

 

_He doesn’t want to cry again. Ever._

 

_He never wants someone to have control like that over him again. He is the master of his destiny. He just needs to believe it again. And he tells himself he will. He will._

_“Thank you,” he manages._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you that could not read this chapter: the last chapter left off on a cliffhanger, where Hux was knocked out by someone while on "fire watch." When he comes to, he is being sexually assaulted. The sexual aspect of the assault is not described in detail, but the sensory experience of pain and the emotional upheaval it causes is described in high definition. Hux manages to get away from his attacker and in a desperate effort to hide what has happened to him, he kills his roommate and frames him for the attack. He cleans up all the evidence, alters all the security footage and privately treats his medical needs with a droid whose memory he later wipes. He tells a superior officer that the roommate, Ori, attacked him by slamming the back of his head with something hard, causing his concussion. He does not make mention of the sexual assault or his real assailant, his aforementioned classmate, Leon D'Jac. 
> 
> He makes a point to finish out his shift on "fire watch," to prove his worth to his superiors (and to himself). The next day during training exercises, he purposefully kills D'Jac in the same fashion that he helped Nali kill her own perpetrator. After killing D'Jac, Hux finds that he finally feels nothingness, as he has longed for in the past. Soon, though, symptoms of PTSD present themselves and he begins to see Ori, his roommate, D'Jac, his assailant and Brendol, his dead brother as if they are actually physically present. He starts having auditory hallucinations of his father berating him, of D'Jac mocking him, he starts having night terrors that drive away all his replacement roommates, he accidentally kills several other classmates because he keeps having flashbacks of D'Jac during class and this all eventually reaches a head and he makes his suicide attempt.
> 
> Kylo has seen this memory before, but a part that Hux did not share with him is revealed; when Hux and Phasma are talking, Phasma asks Hux why he tried to commit suicide. He doesn't tell her outright, but she understands what happens and she is the first person then and there to tell him that she is proud of him and stands by him. Her pledge of loyalty gives him something to live for and he thanks her for that.
> 
> The next chapters are going to take us all the way up to the present day! So, we'll learn about his thoughts on Kylo and how their relationship developed from his POV. This is the worst of the darkness in Hux's storyline. Appropriate trigger warnings will continue to be at the top of every chapter. <3


	10. Chapter 10

_Hux’s recovery takes a long time; longer than he thought it would take. He couldn't have known in how much disrepair his young body was in until it was tested to such lengths._

 

_He lost a lot of blood; being malnourished, underweight, and sleep-deprived beforehand aside, his body took a good, long time to make up for it, and while he was in recovery, Phasma visited him every day._

 

_She winds up being the light of every day in recovery, for him. Physical therapy is bearable only for her presence._

 

_His father does eventually come to see Hux, when he hears the nature of Hux’s wounds, but if the Commandant ever **had** pity, he certainly had lost it all by now. _

 

_To Hux's delighted bewilderment, Phasma seems genuinely shocked by the Commandant's treatment of Hux, and she very nearly gets herself on the Commandant's bad side before Hux slips him a small disc, and distracts the man from Phasma nearly throwing herself over the table to kill him. That she so readily throws herself into the proverbial fire to defend his honor is... new. Welcome, and new._

_Flattery put aside for the time being, Hux taps at the disc and cocks a brow at his father. All three of them are at the table when Hux explains that he has several copies of what is contained on that disc, and when his father asks him for that information, he says that it is the memory of a droid that treated his wounds after being sexually assaulted._

 

_His father pales, whiter than death._

 

_Knowing his father would be more humiliated by something so emasculating having happened to his (now, only) son being known publicly than most anything else, Hux strikes a deal with him._

_Hux agrees to not leak the information that he was assaulted at the Academy, nor will he leak the information on how to infiltrate their security systems, and neither will he expose the details of his hospital stay - but only under very specific conditions._

 

_The first condition being that Phasma be just as protected as the sole heir of the Commandant, no matter what she does, how she behaves, what grades she pulls, or anything else the Academy or Order might frown upon. The other condition being that any request Hux makes for her is seen to fruition - he doesn't care where the funding comes from, whether there is ceremony or not, but only that if he says he wants something for her, that it is seen to._

 

_To say that Phasma is shocked by the deal focusing almost solely on her is an understatement._

 

_Hux has never been altruistic, though - and if those Philosophy data files taught him anything, it's that true altruism doesn't exist, anyway. He has his own agenda, he's protecting his own interests, but it is not entirely for himself. He benefits from the deal, no doubt, but it is done to protect Phasma from any harm, and to ensure her security, and success in the Order. Whether she earns it, or not._

 

_The Commandant hesitates, unsure of what Hux might be plotting through this deal; Hux's father wouldn't know companionship like the one Hux has miraculously obtained, on any count, so it's futile to try to explain. Hux doesn't try, then. He waits for the Commandant's reply in grave silence, for the most part; until he gets restless - then, against what seems like his better judgement, the Commandant firmly agrees to the deal, because Hux tells him (very frankly) that what is contained on the disc is more than enough to stain the Hux legacy permanently, and certainly enough to make a laughing stock of the Academy's security._

_After that, he and Phasma are roomed together, and they turn into what Hux thinks siblings might be like elsewhere in the galaxy._

 

_What siblings are supposed to be like, if Hux understands the dynamic objectively, at all._

_They share far too much information with each other, share in one another’s hobbies, gossip unabashedly, and spend most of their time together._

 

_A ruthless trainer, never willing to put up with Hux's disdain-marred face, Phasma has Hux eating so much protein at one point that they get into a loud fight about how Hux hadn’t had a bowel movement in five days, and it is clearly her fault for altering his diet this way. She yells back at him that he should just eat more fiber, or take a fiber supplement, or just take a laxative if it's bothering him so much - this argument dissolves into him lamenting that his body is betraying him like he might be a century old. The fight ends when Phasma starts laughing at him, and assuring him that his body is still young, he just **feels** old, and that if he just **listens** to her like he ought to, it will go back to feeling young and healthy in time. _

 

_He gives her a hyperbolically dry stare, making a show of distrusting her promises._

 

_And she laughs at this, too._

 

_It all feels familial, sisterly, and warm._

_Phasma, by herself, breathes life back into Hux._

_She tries to include him on group endeavors, but Phasma’s friends don’t take to Hux._

 

_He never expected them to, but he didn’t realize they would abandon Phasma for keeping him around._

 

_He apologizes to her, when they inevitably do get sick of him being forced unto them in social gatherings. Rather than acknowledge his apology, Phasma shakes it off, tells him that they’re "not worth thinking about anymore," and that’s the end of that – that Hux is her priority, and they were “fair weather at best.”_

_Selfish as ever, Hux doesn’t question her – she **cares** about him, for whatever reason, and it’s everything he’s ever needed or wanted. She respects him, she cares after him, and she **likes** him. She **wants** to spend her time with him, and she seems sincerely confused by people who don't share her desire to be around him. _

 

_When he thinks about it too long, he gets teary-eyed._

_If only his younger self had known – it will all get so much worse before it gets better, but it **will** get better. _

 

_If he could visit his old self, he'd tell young Hux that there will be someone who cares, just give her time to arrive, and she will be tender when the moments call for it, tough when it’s necessary, she will have a wit to match his own, and she will be a merciless weight-lifting trainer that refuses to take responsibility for any digestive issues he endures due to her screwing with his diet._

 

_And when they yell at each other, they laugh. And when he feels cosmic loneliness swallowing him down some deep, dark, hole, he just clicks on his bedside light, and asks her to stay awake with him, and remind him that he’s real. And she does._

_Phasma’s company makes his last standard year in combat training exponentially easier than all of his years of training proceeding it; she helps him recover from his night terrors when they occur, and with someone constantly around to share his plane of reality with, he sees his ghosts less, and less. Her presence is grounding, and sometimes, when the two of them are uncomfortably trying to fit on his bed to study together, and she puts her smelly feet on his face to get his attention, and laughs at his disgust… he feels…_ **ease** _._

 

_He feels at ease._

_Being separated from her during his time out in the fleet, in active infantry, and then aboard **Juno** is difficult. _

 

_They send each other messages as often as they can, but it's just not the same as having her around._

 

_Hux watches the development of **The Finalizer** with eager, hopeful eyes. _

_When he sleeps with Croeta’s wife, the offense that gets him kicked off **Juno** , he rejects her kiss. _

* * *

 

“What about Croeta’s wife?”

 

“What about her?”

 

“You told me there was no strategy there – you just did as she asked. You felt mercy for her.”

 

“I was twenty-three and hadn’t gotten laid since the Academy, I assure you, it was one lapse in judgment and it never occurred again,” Hux had argued, looking a little shaken.

* * *

_When he agrees to give her what she wants, she leans in to kiss him, and he turns away from her, tells her not to try that again. She tells him he’s “a strange one,” and he tells her, “I’m not the one soliciting sex from their spouse’s subordinate,” to which she replies, “fair enough,” and does not try to kiss him again._

_He sleeps with her a few times – she is older than Hux, and she teaches him, trains him, in a way, and he’s receptive to that. He has always been an academic at heart._

_While he sleeps with two other women aboard **Juno** during his time there, and he is attracted to a few other people aboard, he avoids actually approaching any men he feels attracted to. He is ashamed to admit, to even himself, that he is fearful of being in a sexual situation with them. He talks about it with Phasma, though their messages and calls, and she tells him, “we’ll get through this.” He believes her._

_When he is plagued with insomnia, he designs weaponry. He finds a sort of comfort in routines, with instrumental music to which he designs weapons of mass destruction, only intermittently disrupted by visions of Brendol, butchered with blood pouring down his chin, Leon D’Jac with a staff through his chest, always standing too close, or Ori lying dead on the ground from the corner of his eye._

 

_When he does see them, his fear of losing control worsens, and feeds his want for galactic leadership, so that he can set it to the order he feels is best. And maybe then he’ll stop seeing things he knows aren’t there._

_He thinks, logically, that no degree of militant, or political power will grant him the sort of control he needs, or desires, but he ignores the logical part of his brain where this is concerned. He is a very logical being, and ignoring his strength in logic may even be counterintuitive, but he fights off his reason with other, angry, under-developed reason  Like that the universe is chaos, so, what good does logic do anyone?_

 

_Logic didn't help him when he needed help the most. He doesn't owe logic his attention._

 

_No one and nothing helped him, when he needed help the most._

 

_By that logic, nothing matters._

_He moves forward, because that is all there is to do._

_When he gets kicked off **Juno** and sent to the First Order base on Aleen, he meets Millicent. He’s outside, smoking, and thinking how Phasma would be livid if she knew he’d picked up the habit again. Without her around, though, his stress goes unchecked, and he self-medicates where he can. He drinks too much when he’s alone, and he’s not going to the gym nearly as much as Phasma tells him he should be going. She’s not there to enforce it, though, so he slacks._

_He inhales deeply on his cigarra, then crouches down when he sees Millicent approaching._

 

_She readily makes eye-contact with him, and makes her way to him; friendly, clean, and clearly socialized. He pets her, and scratches along her back, and he loves her the moment she starts purring. He asks her for her name, apologizes for how inconsiderate it is of him to be so forward with a stranger, and checks her tags._

**_Millicent Flancebaum_**

**_“I’m not lost! Just visiting!”_ **

**_Vaccinated & Neutered _**

_And there is an address below that._

 

_Hux frowns at Millicent._

_“That is an unfortunate first name. Don’t feel bad, though – mine is rather unfortunate as well. Flancebaum is atrocious, though. There is just no need for that. How do you like the sound of Hux instead?”_

_Millicent blinks up at him, and he already knows he is going to remove her collar, and take her, but he waits. He waits for a few standard weeks, in fact, and when he realizes that she calms him better than his whiskey, rum, or cigarras, he takes her. She goes very willingly – she loves him about as instantly as he loves her, and that's how he justifies stealing a family cat._

_He sees much less of his ghosts with Millicent around. He keeps her hidden long enough to board **The** **Finalizer** without detection, where he is finally reunited with Phasma. He hides Millicent there, too, but feels free to talk aloud to her now, knowing he won’t be overheard by someone down the hall, or next door. He makes her chubby, all too pleased to spoil her on treats, and while construction clears out, and **The Finalizer** is completed, Hux takes control of the ship._

_He practices every method of control he learned from all those data files in school, every psychological maneuver he has in his arsenal, and he instills fear in his subordinates. Some of them adore him for the symbol he makes himself into, some fear him for the ruthlessness they know he’s capable of, and some genuinely respect him. Mitaka is one of the types that respects him, and fears him both at once._

 

_When he meets Mitaka, he is rather convinced that Mitaka was the black-haired boy he saw while on “fire watch,” all those years ago._

* * *

Kylo had picked up a portrait of Mitaka. He looked to Hux with some surprise, and Hux shrugged, explaining, “he has an interesting profile when in uniform.”

* * *

_Even conversationally, Mitaka doesn’t say anything about going to combat training the same years as Hux, though, and Hux isn’t about to bring it up. If Mitaka did go during the years Hux did, he may be embarrassed that he tried to commit suicide, and so would not mention, if they did go during the same years, why they hadn't known one another. He would have to explain why he was likely held back, and added to a different unit, and that could prove embarrassing, or just too deeply personal. Mitaka has reason to not share, if he was that boy Hux thinks he is._

 

_Hux deliberately does not go searching through Mitaka’s files to find out if they were at the Academy together. He is unsure why the thought of Mitaka being that boy unnerves him so much, but it does._

_Then, when everything is running smoothly, when everyone, and everything has gears, and routines like perfectly orchestrated clockwork, Hux meets Kylo Ren._

_He **hates** Kylo Ren._

_He has never before encountered someone with such a temper aside from his father, but even his father’s rage is kept in check. Kylo Ren just waves his lightsaber around, uncaring about what damages he brings to the ship, or its personnel._

 

_Hux keeps having to file for new equipment – engineers, insurance providers, and janitors alike come to hate Hux **and** Kylo Ren, though Hux hasn’t the slightest idea why he’s being lumped in the same category of Annoying as Ren. _

_“You don’t hate him,” Phasma says over dinner._

_Hux snorts, “oh, no, I’m quite sure I hate him.”_

_“You don’t,” Phasma repeats knowingly, “You can’t control him. That’s what you hate.”_

_Hux’s brow furrows, “what is that supposed to mean?”_

_She looks at him drily, “Hux. Be reasonable. Everything you’ve ever done in your entire life has been in the hopes of gaining some more control of the galaxy around you. You couldn’t control your mother disappearing, couldn’t control your father’s... **anything** , couldn't control what happened between yourself and your brother, couldn’t control your relationships with anyone, in fact, couldn’t control where you were sent to, what you had to learn, what you had to endure, what you had to be, and when and how you had to be it – you’ve always been hungry for control. It's only natural.”_

_Hux leans back in his seat, concentrating on her words, and her tone gets softer, always appreciative of him taking her seriously when it comes to hard truths._

_“I don’t blame you,” Phasma explains, “Every string of power you have to pull, you fought, bled, and sweat for. Meanwhile, this Kylo Ren character arrives on your ship –"_

_“ **Our** ship,” Hux corrects._

_She smiles, a loving twinkle in her eye, “ – **our** ship – he breaks your things, he disrupts your schedules, distracts your officers, terrorizes your Troopers, and has some sort of magic that allows him to control the minds and emotions of others. He has all the power you’ve ever wanted, but he’s a walking tornado. You are probably caught between envying his power, and despising the lack of control you have over him. You don’t hate him, though – you don’t even know him enough to hate him. You just hate that he is outside of your realm of control.”_

_Begrudgingly, Hux agrees with her, “I suppose you’re right. Don’t even know what species is under all that armor. I do hope he’s hideous, whatever he is.”_

_Phasma chuckles, “and why would you hope that?”_

_“Well, if I can’t throw temper tantrums like he can, and get away with it, and I can’t have the powers he can, **and** he’s going to continue being a thorn in my side, he can at least do me the favor of being terrible to look upon. That must be what the bucket is about, don’t you think?”_

_Laughing, Phasma shrugs, and replies, “I’m flawless, and wear a mask all the same, Hux. Who knows – he could be the height of beauty under all those robes.”_

_“There is absolutely no being in the galaxy more beautiful than you, so that is an impossibility,” Hux answers readily, smiling at her, though the smile disappears quickly, “But I swear, I will burst a blood vessel if he just – just gets to have it **all**.”_

_“No one has it all, Hux,” Phasma reminds him, solemnly, “No one ever has it all.”_

_That conversation seems to prompt Hux, many cycles later, to come barging into Phasma’s quarters unannounced, looking devastated._

_“Hux? What in the – what? What happened? Who did what? Who is it? I’ll kill them –" she moves for her helmet that’s resting on her desk, looking livid and just as deadly as she's promised to be._

 

_However, she is halted when Hux holds up a hand to stop her._

_“Hux… what? What is it?”_

_He’s looking down at the floor, his back leaning against her shut door, and he curses, “fuck. **Fuck**.”_

_“What?_ **What** _?” Plasma begs as Hux rushes to her work table, and searches for supplies he leaves in her quarters – they spend enough time together there that he sometimes takes to drawing in her presence._

* * *

“Have you ever drawn me?”

 

“No. Don’t get sentimental about it – people are just inherently more interesting to draw than the contents of my bedside table. It means nothing.”

* * *

_He finds paper, and pencil, and angrily starts sketching, muttering, “he’s bleeding, fucking beautiful.”_

_“Who is?”_

_“ **Ren**!” Hux shouts, looking up at her, as if it’s her fault, “He’s **beautiful**!”_

_“…he is?”_

_Hux rolls his eyes, and scoffs, as if her ignorance is a plight he's suffering, “fucking **breathtaking** , the **bastard** , he’s-he’s – **stars** , he’s got long, dark, tresses of hair, and these **eyes** – eyes like I’ve never seen, I swear, these full, pouted lips, and his voice is so – and he’s got these beauty marks that…”_

_Looking back down at the paper, he mutters, “sit down, and give me twenty minutes. I’ll show you. He’s not an average man – he’s not conventionally beautiful, but you’ll see what I mean.”_

* * *

“You are… strangely beautiful, Kylo Ren. There are attributes to you that should not be handsome – you’ve big ears, pouted lips, an uneven jaw, a very angular profile… but together, somehow… when combined, it creates a very handsome man. That is why the beauty about you is strange; it is made up of parts that are asymmetrical, and unconventional, but when blended – and too, with your natural voice… it is very… _you_ – _you_ are very… beautiful.”

* * *

_Plasma relaxes against her bed, and waits to be proven right._

 

_Hux is infuriated, but more than that, he feels fear again._

_When Supreme Leader Snoke introduced them, he specified that Kylo Ren was not to even be **attempted** to tame. _

 

_And he grew to fear Ren’s outbursts; fear that he could take no action against Ren, fear that Ren would hurt or kill him in some undignified manner._

 

_Then more fear that Ren’s childlike angers would ruin his missions or tasks, then even more fear knowing Ren is favored by Supreme Leader Snoke, and Supreme Leader Snoke could have him killed by Ren’s hand in the blink of an eye. It all breeds a special paranoia attached to Ren’s presence._

 

_And absence._

 

_Hux is never truly decided on whether or not he should fear Ren's presence or absence more._

_Whether he’s there or not, Ren breeds fear somehow._

 

_If he’s within Hux’s line of vision, Hux is on edge, worried about what to expect, and knowing there’s no way to prepare for any oncoming outburst. When Ren is **not** there, Hux worries about where he could be, and what trouble he might be getting up to, wherever he is._

_Interestingly enough, none of these fears are like the fear he experiences when Starkiller base is falling apart._

 

_His last interaction with Ren, before Starkiller's fall, had been unpleasant, to say the least, but when all the sirens start ringing, and the world begins to fall apart, he feels fear for Ren._

_He wonders how long it has been since he has had fear for another person, if ever. He cannot recall a time he feared for someone else._

_That fear is intensified when he searches for Ren in the snow, is hyperaware of every cracked tree branch, every rumble of the ground beneath them, and he thinks they might both die before he finds Ren in time._

**_Composure, Hux_** _, he tells himself, **Keep composure. You will find him.**_

_When he does find Ren, he’s relieved, but too focused on his task of getting Ren to rescue, to appreciate the levity of it._

_When Ren speaks directly into his head just to taunt him, Hux briefly considers throwing Ren into one of the deepening crevasses opening in the planet’s crust, but decides not to._

 

_For once, **he** is in control of Ren’s fate, and it is not the other way around. For once, whether Kylo Ren lives, or dies, is entirely up to Hux._

_Droids, nurses, and surgeons try to talk him out of the med bay once they’re safely aboard **Aurora** , but Hux just paces, and paces, unable to sleep, and unable to eat. _

 

_He decides to interject himself where he is not wanted, so he can dress some of Ren’s wounds, needing to keep his hands busy, and always malcontent with the work of these so-called professionals (the stitches are never as precise, and symmetrical as Hux could make them). He is also more than a little resentful that the nursing staff somehow managed to lose his treasured greatcoat._

_Hours where Ren is unconscious, but writhing in pain on his bed, Hux stays by his side, and brushes over his forehead, and long hair, with his gloved hand, soothing him like he soothes Millicent when she is unwell._

 

_He knows no other way of comforting someone in great pain._

 

_When Ren reacts to the pain in his sleep, lights flicker, things fly about the room, smash into walls, machines and droids stop working, and glasses spontaneously break apart._

 

_Hux is intrigued by it._

 

_He’s more intrigued by the way the flickering, smashing, flying, and breaking all stop when he lays a gentle hand over Ren’s head._

_His many fears keep him wide awake, and far away from his quarters; his fears keep him planted by Ren’s bedside. The fear of Supreme Leader Snoke hurting Ren for his failures, fear of Supreme Leader Snoke hurting **Hux** for Ren's failures, fear of Hux’s own lack of power, and control over the situation – over Ren’s fate. He has delivered Ren to safety, and so, what now? Now, his control is gone again._

_Phasma stops in to check up on Hux much more so than to see if, or how, Ren is recovering. She couldn’t bring herself to care much less about him, in fact._

_She tries several times to get Hux to sleep, to take more than an hour away from the med bay, but Hux doesn’t listen. She doesn’t wish to fight with him, not so soon after losing Starkiller, so she lets him have his fretting._

 

_Rather than infest him with her own worries over him, she instead tells Hux that he was right – Kylo Ren is nice to look at._

 

_He tells her that his statements on Kylo Ren’s outer appearance are to be stricken from the record, and he refuses to be held accountable for anything he may or may not have said on the matter, in the past._

_Phasma smiles at him, and when no one is there to witness it, she gives him a quick hug. She tells him it will be okay, “we’ll get through this,” she says, and he tries to believe her. He really tries._

_When Supreme Leader Snoke calls for an audience with him, he is positive he is about to die, but Snoke only congratulates him on his successful rescue mission, and gives him orders to lie low on **Aurora** until he is sure of what to do next. _

 

_Hux first learns that Ren has woken while he was in conference with Supreme Leader Snoke, and he contemplates going to the med bay to greet him, and welcome him back to the waking world, but he doesn’t._

_He is frightened to._

 

_He doesn’t understand what drove him to such lengths to rescue Ren. By all means, he could have reported back to Supreme Leader Snoke that it was simply too late, and Kylo Ren could not be found – or perhaps, he even could have lied, and said he found Kylo Ren, but he was long dead already. There were several things he could have done, to rewrite the story of how he came about finding Ren, saving Ren, and getting Ren where he needed to be._

 

_His desire to keep Ren alive on Starkiller has only ever been matched in intensity by his own survival instincts; the ones he remembers so well, being a small child in the woods of his family estate._

**_Is keeping him alive keeping a part of yourself alive? Is his wellness, and your wellness, one in the same?_ ** _Hux asks himself._

_But that’s absurd._

_He doesn’t want to think about it anymore. So, he avoids the med bay._

_He avoids the med bay, until the nurses and surgeons are all begging him to please, come down and cool Ren’s rage, that Ren won’t rest until he sees Hux, for some reason. So, Hux goes, and Ren makes this ridiculous demand to show him the ways of the Dark side of the Force – all because of something Hux barely remembers saying on Starkiller. It was nonsense, after all, just blathering – he was frightened for Ren’s wellness, he was just saying things for the sake of saying things. He hadn’t meant for them to be taken seriously, much less did he expect them to be remembered._

 

_Holding to his word, it seems, is paramount, and Ren, it seems, won't let him walk away from the deal that was never meant to be remembered._

_So, he is forced to follow Ren out of the med bay._

 

_Seeing so much of Ren’s skin puts Hux on edge._

 

_He likes it, and he hates it, and he hates that he likes it, and he’s worried Ren can sense all that, and will mock him for it._

_He is worried about being alone with Ren, in an enclosed space (and on Ren's turf, as well), but he swears to himself that he is an adult now. He’s not the seventeen year-old that was struck over the head and made paralyzed some humid night at the Academy; he is not so easily defeated anymore. He is the dignified, renowned, respected, adored, and feared General Hux of the First Order. Man, symbol, and revolution all in one syllable. A name he wears like a shield._

_A shield that, Ren, for whatever reason, appears determined to take from him._

_When he walks into Ren’s quarters, he’s certain he’s about to see some sort of interpretive dance that will create a rainstorm in the room or something, or Ren will throw his lightsaber onto the floor, and it will turn into a snake or some such nonsense._

_The illusion Ren presents him with leaves him in awe._

 

_He tries to hide it, because Kylo Ren’s ego is overgrown as it is, but the illusion **is** beautiful. The details are so fine, the visuals are so focused – Hux wishes he could do this as well. He wishes he could walk inside the structures he builds in his head, as he’s creating them. He envies Ren for this ability, but more than envy, he feels promise, and awe. _

_He thinks of anyway to disprove it – anyway to discredit it, but Ren meets him at every turn, and he quickly finds himself boxed in. Boxed in with a self-congratulatory Kylo Ren, and he isn’t even bothered – he thinks Ren **should** be proud of this. _

 

_The illusion is breathtaking, and that he built it all from his imagination speaks to such powerful creativity._

 

_It's nice, in a way, to know there is someone other than Phasma in the galaxy that can match his cleverness in **some** arenas. _

 

_He’s almost relaxed, until Ren bizarrely offers his servitude._

_It is one thing to want for power – to work for power, to struggle for power, to seek control, and have a need for control so compulsive, so deeply embedded in your soul you can’t tell the want from the spirit, but to have it offered, and so plainly…_

_Hux doesn’t know how to react._

 

_He hears Phasma’s words in his head, how he never truly hated Ren – he has never had the chance to know the man, can't hate him, because he's never had the opportunity to – he has only ever hated that he couldn’t control Ren, but here Ren is, standing much too close to him, and asking for the privilege of serving, and protecting him._

_“I could provide for you,” Ren offers him, taking one step toward him when Hux takes an intentional step backward, “I could create illusions for you whenever you desire escape, I could help tame unruly troopers, forecast battle outcomes, use Force horror or insanity on any who dare try to harm you - I could serve you well.”_

_Handing over the reigns of his powers, just like that._

 

_Ren is offering Hux **control** over him – and control over a force of power like Kylo Ren is control over **everything**. _

_It’s heady, it’s dizzying, and it’s too good to be trusted. Good things do not just land in Hux’s lap. Good things don’t disregard his want for personal space, and speak in a voice so low and haunting that he’s sure he’ll hear it again in fantasies his mind has long been producing since he first ever saw Kylo Ren’s face._

_He needs to get away from Ren._

 

_The call to the bridge could not have been better timed, but then Ren, the cursed man, is following him like a lost dog, and Hux has no idea what to do with him._

_He sees an opening with Nali Vitaan, to see if he can truly control Ren, in any sense. It's a high-risk game, but he's rather used to those._

 

_With methods in reading body language, and asking just the right questions to get a basic psychoanalysis, Hux picks out Naos Haas, plants the seeds of pride, assuredness, and the illusion of power. He then turns his back on Nali, counting on Ren to be overly emotionally invested in her, and how alien she is. Hux knows how to profile people, and he knew the moment she stepped onto the bridge that Ren was seeing himself in her – apart from the others, alienated, underestimated, and he knew Ren’s rampant self-pity wouldn’t allow for Hux to let Vitaan go._

_He is boastful when his predictions play out as he means for them to._

**_So, he can be controlled_** _, Hux thinks to himself._

_Then he remembers Supreme Leader Snoke’s warnings. The thin lines running down both his arms start to itch, and he thinks to himself that it is too great a risk. He won’t do it again. He will turn down whatever control Ren is offering him – it might be a test from Supreme Leader Snoke, for all he knows. It might be a trap. It almost always is a trap, when these things, these coveted things, come knocking on one’s door._

_It’s the sparring that has him changing his mind about Ren’s character._

 

_When he talks with Ren, argues with him – it’s banter. It’s something similar to what he has with Phasma, and that, in and of itself, should disturb him, but it doesn’t. Not too much, anyway. He has some anxiety about it, and he certainly doesn’t trust Ren like he trusts Phasma, but then Ren offers to rid him of his migraine._

_He says, “I can make the pain stop,” and time stands still._

_Hux is back there, gripping that railing, body being torn apart, and soul already in smithereens, tears running down his face, blood lazily dripping, and gathering from all over, and his prayer to the God he never believed in is answered._

_Kylo Ren stands before him, and says the words no one has ever said to him, but he has longed to hear._

 

_He thinks the memories maybe show in his eyes, but it’s so momentous an experience, to hear those exact words, he can’t bring himself to care._

_“I can make the pain stop,” Ren says, and Hux… Hux believes him._

_Maybe Kylo Ren isn’t something so hateful. Maybe he has misunderstood Ren, and he’s just another man with a temper, but he is not reduced to only that trait. Perhaps there is a shadow in Ren, a piece of himself that could relate to Hux; that could connect to Hux in a meaningful way. Maybe Ren could make an invaluable companion. Maybe Ren has the power to stop the pain._

_For the time being, Hux decides to believe that – that there is a chance. There is a chance that Ren isn’t a trap._

_“I can make the pain stop… will you let me?”_

_There is a chance that Ren **can** make the pain stop._


	11. Chapter 11

_Ren is unpredictable. Always. His unpredictability is the only **constant** about him._

_One moment, he’s all but daring Hux to punch him across the face by mockingly saying, “you’re losing composure, General,” and the next moment, he’s healing a migraine, and his voice is soft as his touch, and he’s much too close – why does he insist on always standing so close? – and Hux is frightened, but willing. Willing to play whatever game it is Kylo Ren lives by, making up the rules as he goes._

_This game could prove dangerous, maybe already has, but everything about Hux’s life is dangerous. For a livelihood, he builds weapons, fires weapons – what’s one more? Surely, he can learn how to interact with this particular weapon, this Lord Kylo Ren, messianic Force user, and cosmically sized crybaby._

_After sparring with Ren, that first sleep cycle, Hux went to Phasma, and told her what he had agreed to (in that, he had no idea what he had agreed to, all he knew is that Ren would be harassing him more often, and it’s good he wears all that armor, because dressed down, he is a complete distraction). From that moment on, Phasma is singlehandedly running the Anti-Ren campaign._

_She keeps reminding Hux that while he doesn’t have to **hate** Ren, he certainly isn’t obligated to make deals with him, or spend time with him. _

_Hux talks about the healings, how Ren is tolerable at times, bordering on friendly even, and Phasma loses her patience, insists that Ren’s unstable, and untrustworthy, and Hux isn’t beholden to him – Hux doesn’t have to “keep him around.”_

_“Is that what your friends said about me?” Hux asks her._

_The argument ends there. Phasma is immediately apologetic, tilting her head down, and her eyes away._

_“That’s not the same,” she argues gently, “He is infantile, and dangerously irresponsible. You are my brother.”_

_“Come now,” Hux says to her, a smile trying to make its way onto his face, “even I can admit that I am… not acting my age, at times. And who hasn’t been irresponsible? Maybe with the right influences, he’ll grow out of it.”_

_Phasma isn’t hopeful, and tells Hux that she’ll go along with it all – she cares about him, and, so, if he thinks trusting Ren to any degree is safe, she will support him, whether she thinks it’s the right thing to do, or not._

_And, if it all falls to shit, she’ll kill Ren herself._

_Hux tells her to please, not do that. There are so many reasons that murdering Ren is bad idea, that he doesn’t even bother listing them._

_When Ren admits to thinking of Hux as his friend, then, moreover, his **only** friend, Hux’s heart melts a little. _

 

_Ren seems surprised by his own admission, and Hux takes his guards down just enough to tell Ren that he fears his father. Something he is typically ashamed of anyone finding out, but Ren just tells him that he “needn’t fear any beast,” when Ren is beside him._

_What a silly fantasy._

 

_What a pretty dream._

 

_What a beautiful, incredible, romantic sentiment._

_Nonsensical, of course, idiotic, nearly – but a kind, loyal, warm sentiment._

**_You needn’t fear this beast or any other again_** _, is what he hears in his head. He thinks it’s in his head, anyway._

 

_He's not entirely sure where his head is, actually._

 

_He’s floating, he’s away from his body, depersonalized, and drifting through some dark ether, but he hears Ren’s voice._

 

_He doesn’t like it when Ren speaks directly into his head, usually._

_It still makes him uneasy, now, but his lips form Ren’s first name, anyway, like a plea._

 

_Too personal. Too raw._

 

_He hates reliving these memories, and he says Ren’s name like someone in dire pain calls on a saint. Like he’s reaching his hand back out to Ren, through the dark, like he’s trying to say, ‘I don’t want to be this little boy anymore, I don’t want to kill Brendol anymore, I want to come back now, ground me again, please’ – all he manages to get out of all that is “Kylo,” and it’s something like a song or a hymn._

_“Kylo…” Hux mutters, and it feels too close to a prayer._

**_I am a slayer of beasts and I will protect you._ **

_This._

 

_This is precisely why Hux hates when Ren speaks directly into his mind._

 

_It reminds him of being young, and so alone, so alone that he made up friends that could only talk to him telepathically. And they’d tell him things like that. They’d all tell him things would get better, they’d tell him they’d protect him from his father, from his brother, from his loneliness, but they never did. They never could._

_They were never real._

_An abandoned child, somewhere lost in Hux, answers back, though; ready to play make-believe all over again._

**_Will you?_ ** _Hux’s inner-child asks, wondering genuinely. Asking “will you,” but meaning “will you try, and fail to as everyone before? Or will your trial be different, somehow? Will you try and succeed, as no one has before?”_

**_I will_** _, Ren answers, and he answers so readily. He sounds so sure, Hux wants to believe him so badly._

**_Can you?_ ** _Hux’s inner-child asks, imagining him with some sword and shield, coming to his rescue from his monstrous father. He wonders what Ren’s plan of action might entail._

**_I can_** _, Ren tells him._

_And when Hux asks him how, when Hux asks Ren how he knows for certain that he can defeat Hux’s beast of a father, how he knows he has the capabilities and powers to protect Hux, how he knows he can do what he has already pledged to, Ren answers him._

**_Because I am a beast myself. One much stronger than the beast of your father. One with less to lose and something greater to defend._ **

_And now, that is something Hux has never heard before. No, certainly no make-believe friend ever said they, themselves, were a monster. Hux wonders at Ren’s self-awareness._

_That Ren thinks of himself as a beast is something to pity, Hux supposes, but he’s been beastly himself, and he understands it._

 

_What good is denying amorality? Hux knows what he is, what he has done, what he has become. He knows about being a monster. He just didn’t realize Ren knew it of himself as well._

_That Ren can know it, that Ren can call himself a monster for all that he’s done, all he has destroyed, all those he has killed – in the name of glory, heritage, recognition, and power – that Ren can admit to being a fearful thing that lurks in the dark forests, and even darker seas, of the hearts of the weak…_

_A faceless monster with an inhuman voice, a cloak more black than the void of space, moving more swiftly and silently than a shadow, hands steeped in the blood of innocents, an obsessive and tortured mind with fangs and claws at the ready…_

_Kylo Ren **is** a monster._

**_I believe you._ **

_When Hux faints after the anxiety-cleansing, he’s a little desperate for grounding. Ren wants to get him water or something, some nonsense that doesn't quite compute – monsters don’t need water, monsters don’t need comforts. Monsters can need each other, though, surely. So, Hux extends his hands, and keeps Ren close to him, close to him the way he typically hates people being close to him. He keeps Ren close like that, until he’s able to stand again._

_When in the conference room, Ren speaks up against Hux's father as Phasma once did so long ago – it gives Hux a rush of nostalgia, but more than that, the desire to put his faith in Ren. He **wants** to trust Ren. He **wants** to be a companion to Ren. He **wants** to keep playing this game, **Ren’s** game – and he **wants** to win._

_Ren thinks of Starkiller as a success, of **Hux** as a success, and that…_

_It’s definitely too much to compute, at that point._

 

_It’s all too close to his heart, it’s all too close to cracking the thick layer of numbness Hux had to endure so much to obtain._

 

_Danger, again. Danger that Kylo Ren might make him feel something – something other than anger, or irritation, or loneliness – but Hux still wants to play, so, he puts more credits down on the table, doubles down, and tells Ren “not to stray far,” because it’s what he wants._

_“Stay near me,” is what Hux means, but that’s too much to say. That’s too much to admit to wanting, too much to bet, so he says, “don’t stray far,” instead._

_He’s willing to play, and he’s put a lot on the table to gamble as it is._

_So, Hux tries to trust him. But, then Ren’s at it again – unable to keep his mood swings under control. He’s protective, then he’s defensive, he’s open, and then he’s shut down, he’s gentle, then he’s violent, and it’s absolutely maddening. Hux feels like blaster emissions are being fired at his feet in unpredictable patterns every time Ren opens his idiotic, pouty mouth._

_And after acting like a complete arse, Ren has the audacity to lock himself away in his rooms long enough that Hux is sure he’s left the ship altogether - and then he just shows up, demanding Hux’s audience, and saying something completely incoherent about cats, and Angels. He doesn’t even give Hux the chance to reject him – just walks away with something about cats and Angels, and Hux **could** ignore him. Probably **should** ignore him._

_He boards the pod, anyway._

 

_He goes to Naalol, he makes the trek, he talks about asinine things like love, and the loss of loved ones, and the idiocy of spirituality, and then, Ren, even after enduring his insults and his rotten attitude, still shows him the Angels._

_“Why… have you shown me this?” Hux asks, admiring the statues, and in awe, yet again._

_That is the rollercoaster ride of Kylo Ren, he supposes. He would very much like to keep despising the man, but then he makes gestures like these, that cannot be ignored._

_“I don’t know,” Ren says, “I just wanted to share a piece of myself with you.”_

_Hux feels his face get hot, and then Ren is taking his helmet off, and making everything a thousand times more difficult. Those vast, shining, and beautiful eyes are looking right into his, as though looking through him, and he can’t find his anger anymore. Ren’s eyes search his, and he swears he feels something other than the numbness, in the marrow of him._

_“I hurt you,” Ren says to him plainly, taking responsibility for something Hux was so sure was beyond Ren’s emotional capability of accepting responsibility for, “All day, I was being haunted by Ben Solo and when… at dinner, he taunted me with a memory I had never before seen. I was unprepared to deal with it. I wanted to get away, but had no way of… sharing this part of myself with you.”_

_Hux thinks of D’Jac, and how desperately he wanted to escape that boy, and he’s fearful for a moment that he put Ren in that same emotional turmoil, but it’s as if Ren’s reading his mind; he just shakes his head, dismissing the stress he must sense coming off Hux in waves, those ebony feathers of hair fall around him, and he looks to the ground like he might be shy, and he asks rhetorically, “how do you share a part of yourself that is dead?”_

_How, indeed._

_If Ren ever figures that out, Hux would like to know._

_“Instead of telling you I needed to be left alone, I attacked you. This was wrong of me. Not because it is wrong to attack when wounded, as all animals instinctively do – it was wrong of me to attack **you**.”_

_Of course, Hux is about to ask why he, in particular, should not be attacked and, of course, Ren answers him in his head._

**_Because you are my friend. You are my only friend. You are the only one I have ever wanted beside me. Please, forgive me._ **

_Frozen, Hux stands there in silence, unsure of what to do. Such an honest plea, so polite, so unguarded, so irritatingly **sweet**. Kylo Ren is stripped, and powerless, before him, wanting forgiveness from Hux when he’s surrounded by Angels. _

_Kylo Ren is surrounded by **Angels** and all he cares about is whether or not **Hux** will forgive him._

_He thinks he could draw out his dagger, and thrust the blade through Ren’s neck before the man ever sees it coming, and he would die there, die like a dog at Hux’s feet._

_He’s so vulnerable, and Hux is a **monster** , and Ren must know this too – Ren **must** see him for what he is, so **why** would he allow himself to be seen by Hux’s vengeful, murderous gaze?_

_Rather than murdering him, Hux decides to move a lock of hair away from Ren’s forehead. He’s not entirely sure why he does that, instead of murdering Ren. Both seem like just as likely, just as convenient responses, somehow. He should be plunging his dagger into that forehead, but instead he’s allowing his fingertips to brush over the soft skin there like he did in the med bay when Ren was unwell, unknowingly flickering the lights, breaking glasses, and writhing in agony._

_Ren looks up at him from under his eyelashes, and Hux feels something like an electric shock._

 

_He tries not to let it show._

_“Why do you bare yourself to me like this?” Hux asks him._

_Ren’s eyes flicker all across Hux’s face. **Kylo** ’ **s** eyes, that are open, curious, wondrous, and exposed. He’s like a wounded animal, lost in the woods, and without a pack, without any way to protect himself, standing openly before a beast ready to swallow him whole, and still be hungry afterward._

_With his dagger, Hux could kill Ren right now. With his hands too, maybe. Supreme Leader Snoke would kill him for it, though, and Hux isn’t so inclined to murder Ren anymore, anyway. Not after the Angels._

 

_And Ren must know this too. Ren **must** know Hux is too set on surviving to throw his life away to Supreme Leader Snoke's fury, just for the momentary satisfaction of killing Ren for his transgressions. Hux could do more than kill, Ren, though._

_Hux can ruin Ren, and maybe only Hux knows that._

_He has a wit like no other, a silver tongue sharper than the blade of his dagger, and a toolkit of his own mind tricks that Ren has no knowledge of. With the right words, he could reduce Ren to ashes. With the right psychological attack, he could ruin Ren from the_ **inside out** _– allow Ren to ruin_ **himself** _. Hux knows what seeds to plant, and where. He’s driven men mad before, and will go on to drive more to their demises with just a few carefully placed words; it is his favorite way to kill a man – slowly, and in great pain the entire time, in great pain that there is no salve for._

_He wonders if Ren knows the danger he is in, when Hux speaks to him. He wonders if Ren really knows just how monstrous he can be._

_“I could destroy you,” Hux informs him, thinking it best that Ren know before proceeding._

_“Yes,” Ren agrees, and Hux is shocked by the ready admission, “You could. You can. You might.”_

**_Yes_** _, Hux thinks greedily, his stomach clenching like he’s about to experience a long drop, lungs expanding further than his ribs allow, **keep going. Keep going, you dolt. Give me the control. Give it to me.**_

_“I… I trust you not to, though.”_

_Hux moves his eyes back up to Ren’s, assessing him, making sure there’s honesty in what Ren has said. In what Ren is offering him._

_Ren is holding back, Hux can tell. There’s more he wants to say, or do – maybe he wants to kill Hux as much as Hux wants to kill him, but he too, sees no point in it anymore._

_Hux wonders what it’s like inside Ren’s head._

 

_Probably a bloody mess._

_“I trust you,” Ren repeats._

_“With your life?”_

_“I trust you entirely.”_

_Hux’s heart betrays him, and it starts jumping eagerly, pounding incessantly against his ribcage like it has a mind to release itself, and fly into Ren’s hands. And how thoughtless that would be, how careless, how dangerous._

_He wants to know what Ren is thinking, but he has no telepathic powers. Reading Ren’s expressions and body language can be difficult at times, as Ren is very unusual himself, often missing or misattributing common social cues; and this combination of facial expression and body language is no exception. In the hopes of gaining some insight, Hux puts his hand over Ren’s heart, and he feels for its beat, fancying himself a type of human polygraph exam – he feels it pounding harder, and faster than his own. Without shame or restraint._

_“Your heart is pounding,” Hux chides._

_“This is not uncommon in your presence.”_

_An admission so telling, so intimate, and Ren says it like he’s talking about the fucking weather._

_Ren is an enigma – unpredictable, always, and forever odd._

_He makes Ren’s heart pound. That could be anything, mean anything. That could be excitement, fear, stress, anger, competitiveness, anxiety – Hux can’t be sure. It’s then, he thinks to himself, that this game with Ren is one to be taken slowly. He must be more patient with Ren._

 

_Ren is unstable, and Ren has never promised Hux that he would never offend him – only that he wanted to serve, and protect him well, not necessarily socialize or behave well. With that in mind, patience and insights renewed, Hux invites Ren to take him to the gala as first intended._

 

_He’s likely to die without Ren there, anyway, and while he doesn’t much care about living or dying, Phasma would be extremely displeased if she ever discovered that he willingly walked into a deathtrap._

_And then Ren takes his hand, stopping time._

_He looks into Ren’s eyes, those hypnotizing eyes, and he feels all the regret, and anger, and frustration, leave him. Ren has given him something – something he has never offered to even Supreme Leader Snoke, the man Ren calls 'Master.'_

_Angels._

_He hurt Hux, he apologized for it, as if monsters do things like **apologize** , and now, he touches Hux like Hux might be something worth being soft towards. And Hux forgives him._

_Hux forgives him._

_He can’t even control it._

 

_The forgiveness washes over him, and any attempt at remaining bitter, or resentful, would be futile. He forgives Ren, and his graceless madness._

_Taking Ren back to his quarters to meet Millicent might be a bad play in this dangerous game, but, so be it. Ren made a bold move with the Angels, and Hux will die before being outdone. He forgets about his art being strewn about, though._

_He had been looking for that portrait of his mother he’d made so long ago, but he’s been unable to find it. He thinks he might have to make a new one, but surely, his memory is old now – he will never do her justice. He still hates her._

_He’d really rather not share that part of himself with Ren, but Ren welcomes himself into Hux’s art, and it’s tense – not an unkind atmosphere, but still – tense. In that tense atmosphere, Hux asks Ren if he’s able to undo the belt of his uniform from that distance. He has seen Ren use the Force in the place of gross motor skills, but never with fine motor skills like the kind needed to undo a belt. He’s curious to see._

_The Force is a strange thing, and that’s an understatement. It is nearly beyond the conceptual abilities of humans, like trying to imagine the infinite space surrounding them – their brains can’t illustrate it just right. When he feels the energy spooling around him, unclipping the belt, pulling it through the loops of his jacket, swirling around him, and then seeing it land neatly on his bed…_

_It’s poetic, in a way. It’s magical in that way that magic is science yet to be explained. It’s troubling, it’s exciting, it’s intriguing and…_

_Hux’s heart drops low into his stomach._

**_It’s enchanting_** _, he can’t stop himself from thinking._

_He’s never used that word. Not since he was a young boy – that word has never even come to his mind in the past twenty standard years, but there it is, in sixty-foot-high, flashing, neon lights._

_“Ren, have you ever enjoyed, and been terrified of something in equal measure?” Hux asks, because he feels like he needs to – like he needs to say what’s on his mind without actually saying it._

_“Yes,” Ren answers him._

_And that’s all Hux needs. For now, anyway._

 

_He says he’ll change in the ‘fresher, and leaves Ren to do what he may with the art, with his dear Millicent, with his belongings, and personal space. Trusting Ren alone in his quarters for even the blink of an eye is something Phasma would have a conniption over, but he’s playing the game. A game she wouldn’t understand, even if he **could** explain it in words._

_Ren seems to bond with Millicent, he asks about the drawings, asks about the scar on Hux’s back, asks about his brother, asks about his mother, tells him he wants to teach him how to meditate, and when Hux wants to see the extensions of his illusion, Ren entertains him. He takes Hux by the hand, like it’s natural, like he’s allowed to, and Hux doesn’t stop him. He should. He’s not sure why he doesn’t, but he doesn’t._

_“Why can I sense your heartbeat?” Hux asks, swearing there’s a patter in his chest that is unfamiliar, and markedly different from his own heartbeat, “Or am I imagining that?”_

_“I am allowing you to sense it,” Ren replies, “Would you rather I not?”_

_Hux isn’t sure._

_“It’s loud.”_

_“Yes. Again, this is commonplace when you are present.”_

_Ren has certainly asked enough questions for the cycle, Hux thinks he’s owed a few answers of his own._

_“Why? Do you fear me?” Hux asks._

_Ren doesn’t look at him when he answers, “I don’t know. My heart has done this a long time now while interacting with you. Ever since the collapse of Starkiller, actually. If I do fear you, it is the fear of all things beautiful that never stay.”_

_Hux’s heart thumps just once, violently, and he feels his face get warm, from his neck to his forehead._

_He is worried for Ren again. The same way he was worried on Starkiller. The same way he was worried when Ren didn’t wake for several cycles due to his wounds._

_Hux knows what he is. He’s a weed, he’s a murderer, he’s a monster, he’s a beast, he’s a knife always plunged into someone’s back, he’s despicable, immoral, cold, uncaring, without a home, without a place. He’s so often a curse set upon innocent homes._

_He wonders what Brendol would have said, if Hux had stopped bringing the hatchet down onto him. He wonders what might have been, if he’d held onto his mother’s hand, and refused to let go, rather than allowing her to be taken by guards without protest. He wonders would Ori would be up to these days, besides constantly dying in his periphery, if he hadn’t acted so instinctively._

_He spends too much time wondering about all the blood on his hands. How it rusts him, how it stains him, how it marks him, and labels him for what he really is._

_“Don’t… don’t mistake me for something golden, Ren,” is what Hux says, but what he means is, **“run now, while you still can. Run, before your blood winds up on my hands as well.”**_

_“Not all that glitters is gold,” Ren replies, like it’s the simplest thing in the universe, “I have never wanted for simple things – precious things. I have not mistaken you for something precious, Hux. I fear your absence, anyway.”_

**_Does he fear for me as I fear for him?_ ** _Hux wonders._

_“What would it mean to you? For my absence – to lose me?”_

_Ren’s brows curve, like he might be confused._

_“What if it was me, and not you, that strayed from base as Starkiller collapsed? What if you had not found me in time? What would it have meant to you?”_

_Ren seems to be searching Hux’s eyes for the right answer, the answer that will please Hux the most, so Hux makes his face as unreadable as he can. He wants Ren to be honest, whatever that might mean._

**_Would he feel relief? Pity? Perhaps he’d be envious of Starkiller, for having gotten the chance to kill me before he did_** _, Hux thinks._

_“I don’t know that it would have meant something to me,” Ren responds slowly, looking deeply troubled by the prospect, “I think in your wake, would have been an absence of meaning.”_

_Ren makes him a garden, a pond, flowers, and stones, cool water, two moons, grass that won’t take him back to that terrible day on his family's estate, and their hands touch a lot. And he allows himself to touch Ren’s hair, because he wants to. He’s alone with Ren, and he doesn’t feel threatened. Ren went above and beyond, entirely out of his way, to make this magical, enchanting illusion a safe haven for Hux’s mind when it turns from a sterile lab, into a dangerous neighborhood._

_And when Hux says he wants it to all go away, Ren makes it vanish. Anything Hux wants, Ren would do in that moment. Hux has control over him in that moment, and he chooses to use it only to make Ren stay just a little longer. Millicent wants to play with Ren's hair, and it’s precious, and it’s sweet, and Hux should hate it, but he doesn’t._

_A thin, fine crack makes its way through Hux’s layered numbness, and there’s nothing Hux can do to stop it._


	12. Chapter 12

_Everything is fine for a while, after the Angels._

 

_Hux thrives in environments that allow him to build schedules, and keep to them, know what to expect, and when. His anxieties, as an adult, have gone clinically untreated to this day, and when he has control over how his day will play out, it helps to keep him calm. He doesn’t need any pills, or shots, from the med bay like other, weaker minded men. Control is his medication, control is all he needs._

_And, as unruly as Ren can get, he finds a way to follow the beat. Hux can’t imagine that it’s for any other reason, but to please him, and he likes that; he wants Ren to want to please him. And Ren does._

_Even Phasma eventually admits to Hux that she’s not all too opposed to Ren’s company anymore – they all spend meal times together, and Hux starts to think of them as a trio. He knows Phasma isn’t at that point quite yet – she doesn’t care for Ren **that** much, but she’s warming up to him. He decides to keep that thought to himself, for that reason. He knows she won't like the sound of a 'trio,' in regard to being inclusive of Ren._

_Sometimes, Phasma catches Hux staring at Ren when Ren isn’t paying attention. She gives Hux this lifted-eyebrow-look that is meant to embarrass him, and it rightfully does. Ren never catches Hux when he’s staring. Hux prefers it that way too._

_Hux is numb to a lot, but not to loathing, not to rage, not to sadness, or loneliness either. He can feel pride as well, he can get as narcissistic as Ren on his worst days. What he’s not accustomed to feeling is joy. And that’s precisely what he feels, when Ren starts joking with him. **Joking**! _

_Laughing and grinning is **not** something Hux does. He’s a grown man, with a lot on his shoulders – who has the time, or childlike mindset to joke around? _

_Ren, does, apparently, because he manages to make Hux laugh on the control bridge, **in full view of his subordinates** , and not just **laugh** , no – **really** laugh. _

 

_He has stopped minding the way Ren talks directly into his head. It’s only Ren’s voice he hears – no ghosts, no berating father, no mocking D’Jac. Just Ren. Telling him that his “sunny and friendly disposition can be off-putting at times,” and Hux can’t help it – he laughs, and he laughs **hard**. _

_He can’t remember the last time he laughed and it wasn’t forced or self-pitying._

_What a beautiful gift._

_But of course, it’s interrupted by another downswing._

_Ren throws some sort of hissy fit about not being allowed to train with the other Knights, and Hux would be offended that Ren is so eager to get off **Aurora** and away from him, but he’s more concerned about soothing Ren’s rage. He knows what rejection feels like, and to have it mercilessly beaten into one over, and over again – it’s exhausting._

_So, Hux forgives the destroyed conference room, and offers to spar with Ren, thinking this will surely calm him. But no, the offer only seems to make Ren angrier for some reason, and then he’s talking about going to Supreme Leader Snoke **about** Hux, and Hux **panics** – the threat of Supreme Leader Snoke ordering Ren to kill him at any moment still at the forefront of his mind. _

_He doesn’t know what he’s done to upset Ren this time, and Ren is as mute as ever about whatever it is he's angsting over, and for all the paranoia it causes him, Hux paces the bridge, trying to distract himself, but he can’t._

_The next time Ren deigns to grace them all with his presence again, Hux is ready to rip into him the same way he did before – get angry, and stay angry, until Ren does something to make it up to him. Hux supposes that he’s still alive, and that must mean Ren hasn’t been ordered to kill him yet._

_Then Ren says he’s leaving – he drops it so casually, like he doesn’t care at all, and Hux **hurts** for it. _

_“I have been summoned by Master Snoke to further my training,” Ren tells him once they are alone, just like that. Just so simple._

_Hux feels his whole body tense up, his ears getting hot with his aggravation, and anxiety, and he’s too frightened to ask after what he really wants to know, so he manages to stammer out, “and – what of the gala, what about –"_

_“Breathe,” Ren interrupts him, as if **he’s** the level-headed one among them, “I said, four cycles until I depart. I will not abandon you now, my dear General. You will not face the gala alone.”_

_“Don’t you ‘dear General,’ me, you great buffoon! Gone for two entire cycles, off planning stars knows what with Supreme Leader, and now you’re just **leaving**? Out of the blue? And I’m meant to think that’s in no way suspicious? Do you think I’m an idiot? I honestly –"_

_There is a tirade Hux has been working on for the past two cycles, and he is ready to start in on it. It lasts somewhere between two minutes, and thirty five seconds, and four minutes, and fifteen seconds, depending on much he starts pacing, and how many breaks he needs to take to seethe around his rage-headache._

_But, Hux finds something hot lodged in his throat, keeping the tirade at bay – Ren kneels before him. **Kneels** , like a proper Knight, his head bent down with shame. Hux can’t bring himself to make a noise._

_“When I last saw you, I was losing control of myself,” Ren starts, as though he has ever been in control of himself, “My attachment to you – it has driven me half-mad, and when I’m enraged, my anger fires in all directions. Even in yours. I never mean for it to. I went to Master Snoke to ask for guidance. I went to ask him if there was something wrong with me, for my sense of loyalty to you.”_

_Hux’s heart rate starts to incline, and he really wants this conversation to stop. Or rather, he wants control over the conversation again. He had driven Ren into the conference room, he had been the one directing the questions, so how has he wound up the one speechless, and nervous?_

_How does Ren continue to leave him powerless like this?_

_“Anyone with a functioning brain can tell there is something wrong with you – why should I believe –"_

_Rather than explaining himself in **words** , say, like a **person** might, Ren decides to just insert a memory from his own head into Hux’s. Projecting a conversation he had with  Supreme Leader Snoke where he admitted to feeling obsessive about Hux. _

_It’s overwhelming, to say the least._

_Hux blinks rapidly, shaking his head a little; he’s disoriented from the direct link tying his mind to Ren’s, but more than that, he’s confused. He’s very confused. That Ren is dramatic has never been a secret, but what Ren shows Hux is more than a confession of obsession. It implies so much more._

_He is unsure of what to say, or do yet, so he looks down at Ren’s downturned head, and asks, “…and so… what did he say?”_

_“He instructed me to move in with you until I am to leave.”_

_Brain short-circuiting, Hux can only compute that he wants to see Ren’s face. He doesn’t like this anymore – he doesn’t like that Ren is kneeling, he doesn’t like that Ren is so far from the door, and was it this warm when they first entered the room?_

_“…he what?”_

_Ren turns his head up, telling him assuredly, “I will not follow his orders, unless they align with your own… I know I have hurt you again…”_

**_There he goes again_** _, Hux thinks bitterly, his heart pounding harder, **You’re going to tell me that you’re sorry. And I need to be okay with it, because you’re leaving. No. No, I don't have to do anything. Maybe I should hold onto the grudge until you’re back again -**_

_“And I am likely to do so again in the future – I have never had a friend, Hux. I have never been attached to a person like this. I have never really… cared before. I am unpracticed in this. But I… I didn’t mean to hurt you. It wasn’t my intention. And I… I have no desire to outrun you.”_

_No apology. Not in it’s most literal sense, anyway. But there Ren is, baring himself again, looking raw, and open, and earnest. Hux is still displeased – Ren needs to learn not to just run off to his quarters to meditate every other time there’s a crisis, and to… to **communicate** with Hux, but there’s no way for Hux to ask for that without sounding…_

**_Possessive? Expectative?_ ** _Hux wonders, **What would it sound like, exactly? Out of line?**_

_He decides it doesn’t matter. There’s only one thing that matters right now._

_“But, you are still leaving,” Hux says, trying hard not to allow for the pain settling in his chest to come through his voice._

_“I have no other choice, Hux,” Ren tells him, looking pained, “Please, try to understand.”_

_Hux looks away from Ren, ahead at the door, trying to swallow that hot rock in his throat, and not let that heat spread through his face or worse, behind his eyes._

 

* * *

 

“I trust you to disappoint. I trust you to throw me to the wayside as soon as Snoke tells you to. In fact, I trust you to kill me the moment he decides he doesn’t care much for me anymore. I trust you to fail and fail spectacularly because of your childish rage, to be unable to mind my privacy, control yourself or your powers and I trust you to leave. This is what I have known, Ren. You will leave as everyone leaves. So, what does it matter? What does it matter what was done to me at combat training? What does it matter that I was forced to kill my brother? What does it matter that I never heard from my mother again? What does it matter? You’re leaving. And that’s all I can really trust. That’s all I trust of anyone. That’s the only consistency I’ve found. It’s the only truth there is. You’ll leave, like you were meant to and it won’t matter – what I’ve said or haven’t said. And when I leave in death, those stories won’t matter then either. Oblivion is there and I welcome it – finally allowing me to reach my peak of meaninglessness.”

 

* * *

 

_It’s all the same, anyway. Life is long when it’s merciless, and short as well, when it’s gentle; most only manage to make themselves a pebble on the mountain of history, in the time they’re given, and men that lead lives like Ren, and Hux do – they live even shorter lives, spend those short lives **moving** mountains, or **destroying** those mountains, and rebuilding them from the soil up. Pebble, by pebble._

_People are born, people die, and some people die because Hux kills them. People arrive, and people leave. Sometimes people leave, because Hux doesn’t know how to hang on, or how to be a person that entwines their identity with the companionship of another that to separate would be as impossible as tearing apart the threads of the cosmos._

 

_Sometimes, it’s because Hux doesn’t know how to be a person at all._

_Planets form, stars expand, and sometimes those planets thrive, and sometimes those stars die, and sometimes Hux destroys them all in one fell swoop. Droids log away memories, and those memories can be taken, taken by Hux, portraits can be drawn, drawn by his hands, and then lost, and lost forever. Everything goes away. Hux knows this, so why does it hurt?_

_It’s all the same, so, it doesn’t matter. It’s all the same. Everyone leaves._

 

* * *

 

_You know I don’t want to leave you._

 

“Of course I know, I know – you said, I know – you said and I believe you, I believe you. Do you get it? I believe you. I trust you, Kylo. It’s what you wanted – you have it. I trust you. Stay.”

 

“Stop.”

 

“I don’t want to. You are always destroying my things – you stomp around in your great big boots and your stupid helmet and you just insert yourself into my life like – not even giving me a choice – just Hellbent on – and the Angels – I don’t want you to leave. Like everyone else. Like everything else. You’re not like that – you’re not like everyone and everything else. Don’t go.”

 

* * *

 

**_Shut it off_** _, Hux scolds himself, but nothing lightens, nothing changes. It still hurts, and he hates that he’s injured in someway he can’t bandage, or suture into makeshift wellness again._

_He hates that **Ren** is the one hurting him, and he hates that he knows Ren truly doesn’t mean to. He hates that he’s in deeper than he meant to travel. He hates that he trusted Ren not to stray far._

_“How long will you be gone?” Hux asks._

_“I have no way of knowing.”_

**_Idiot._ **

_“Well – when did he say you’d be back?” Hux asks, knowing he’s starting to sound unraveled, panicked, even._

_“He… didn’t.”_

_There is silence, but Hux’s growing migraine pounds away like a hammer on anvil, filling his skull with noise._

 

**_There is no way someone would send you on a mission without an estimated time of return. You’re being an idiot. Think harder, Ren._ **

_“He didn’t what? Give you an estimate?” Hux asks more specifically._

_“No,” Ren says with some difficulty, his eyes getting glassy, “No, I… I am not predicted to return to **Aurora**.”_

_Now, the heat’s behind Hux’s eyes, and he hates Ren for putting it there, and he hates himself for letting it happen, and he hates that he knew this would happen all along._

_The scars on his arms itch, but he resists the urge to scratch at them. One of the nurses that tended to him in that hospital, so many years ago, described his self-inflicted wounds as having been “cut with the precision of an expert surgeon.” He couldn’t tell if she was proud of him or not – impressed, certainly, but she was supposed to be glad he was alive, right? That was her job, her purpose, right?_

_It’s been so many years, those questions, and their answers, don’t matter. **So many** questions will go unanswered – the ones he has wanted to ask his father, his mother, his brother, his classmates, and now, Ren, too – there will be questions unanswered, and he needs to find some peace in that. _

_Someday, he’ll be ash on the wind, and he won’t know how far the universe extends, if it has a shape, or a name, or if he was ever capable of loving a person. He probably won’t know who makes the Angels on Naalol, or why it was so easy for him to grow dangerously attached to the cyclone Kylo Ren._

_He can’t control that – he can’t have all the answers, and someday, he’ll die, still not knowing so much he wants to know. He thinks that when he dies, he hopes it’s before Phasma, so that he never has to know a life without her, that it will be long after Millicent, so that she will never have to know a life without him. He thinks too, that when he dies, he’ll remember Kylo Ren. He’ll remember hating Kylo Ren, wanting to control him, wanting to understand him like a question unanswered._

_He should be glad, shouldn’t he? Ren is a disaster of a human being, not a novel mystery – but he’s complex in his simplicity, and that’s maddening, paradoxical, and shouldn’t be true, or right. Yet, Ren is who he is._

_He wrecks everything around him, throws tantrums like an infant, embarrasses Hux in front of his subordinates, insults Hux’s father, putting them both in danger, makes Hux spar far too often – he’s nearly as bad as Phasma, making him exercise so much, and…_

_He’s somehow become a fixture in the dark, strange setting of Hux’s still life hanging on some wall that no one takes the time to look at._

_How terrible, to become so invested in a man like Ren. How terrible a thing, to care._

**_What have I done to deserve that?_ ** _Hux asks the universe._

**_There are a million answers to that question_** _, the back of his mind supplies._

_“You can stand, Ren.”_

_His heart has slowed down; he’s discreetly trying to keep an even breathing pattern, but the sadness lies itself on top of his heart like a lethargic gel, encasing him._

_Ren is leaving._

_Ren was never supposed to be permanent, anyway – Ren was always supposed to leave, the way everyone leaves, but, somehow, for some inexplicable reason, Hux had come to believe otherwise. He got so used to having Ren at his side, he forgot that there was a life before Ren. A life before that side was always warm, and exuding strength, and safety. A life he took decades to construct to perfection. A life he must return to._

 

_“I haven’t eaten this entire cycle,” Hux announces without prompt, wanting the burning behind his eyes to stop, wanting to be anyone else, anywhere else, “My head has been throbbing mercilessly. Will you…”_

_“Do a magic trick?” Ren asks playfully, tilting his head._

_Hux refuses to be predictable. Not when Ren is the way he is. Not when he’s forced Hux to care, just to leave._

_“Use the Force,” Hux corrects – he wants to impress Ren. He wants Ren to think of him as something worth holding onto – he wants Ren to hate his departure as much as Hux already does. He tries to look Ren in the eyes, but they’re so vulnerable, and Hux feels like an open wound. He has to look away._

_“I would be grateful for the healing.”_

_“As always, it would be my pleasure, Hux.”_

_And, then Ren presents the most perfect distraction – of course, he wouldn’t have anything to wear to the gala. Of course, he’d be so foolish enough to not plan ahead. Hux will use his stolen time away from work to help him. That, and maybe harass him just a bit about mind tricks, because watching that officer run off, convinced Hux had somehow acquired a half-cycle off work, is too fascinating, and empowering a thing not to investigate further._

_He_ **will** _die with questions, questions that will go unanswered, but, while he’s still alive, he can learn about mind tricks  He can listen to Ren talk, and maybe, with enough time, the low lilt of Ren’s voice will reveal to Hux how he can be a living, breathing contradiction._

_Ren’s inflicting more pain than he likely knows he’s capable of, and Hux knows he doesn’t mean to. Ren probably isn’t even bothered. He’s probably looking forward to rejoining the Knights, and here Hux is, wasting away in self-pity, and selfishness._

_The self-pity is deplorable. Pathetic, weak-willed, reminiscent of being a young boy desperate, and cloying for affection._

_Selfishness, though, is something undeniable about Hux. He doesn’t mind that he’s selfish. To be greedy for strength, for power, prestige, honor – it’s what leads the most deserving men to greatness._

_This is certainly the first time Hux has been selfish for a **person** , though. He considers telling Ren that he’s somehow managed to make Hux a more selfish person since they first met, but Ren wouldn’t understand what he means. **He** hardly understands what he means. _

_All he knows is that everything goes away._

_The good, the bad – the worst days of his life, the best days of his life – all of them will have passing hours, all of them will remind him that he will never be as young again as he is right then. Those days will go away, the time will slip through his fingers, just smoke through his fist._

_It’s all Hux has ever had, even when he thought he had nothing; the promise that everything leaves._


	13. Chapter 13

_That Hux can smell the flowers is what almost fools him. The way the scent of the ivy, vines, and blossoms waft through the air, surround him like a mist, the way the moonlight hits the balcony, and shines in his eyes, making him want to squint, but he can’t, because Ren is knelt in front of him, and he looks much too handsome to glance away from._

_That’s not something Hux likes admitting to – that Ren is so handsome. Particularly when he’s on his knees._

_Hux hates, too, that Ren jokes so much about Hux himself being “beautiful,” – he knows what he looks like, and he'd prefer Ren quit what he considers false flattery. He knows how thin he is, how pale he is. The closest Hux has ever felt to “handsome,” is in full uniform, with his greatcoat, and even then, he hasn’t felt “handsome,” as much as he has, “clean,” or "proper."_

_Phasma exudes strength, her blonde hair is striking, and her face is smooth, contoured, and lovely; that she is uninterested in romance or sex is a pity for the rest of the galaxy. Brendol had been a handsome young man, too – he was practically a clone of their father, during his glory days._

_Ren has a little color to his skin, not so pale as Hux, and he’s got muscle enough to make three or more of Hux. The scar he recently acquired has, inexplicably, only managed to make him more handsome – he looks more dangerous, more unique, and it adds to the asymmetry of his face that is somehow aesthetically pleasing to Hux. His eyes are so dark, but impossibly luminous as well. His lips are full, his lashes are so long, his hair is so thick, and Hux is ashamed by how much he wants to touch it. How much he'd like to touch **Ren**._

_The way Ren is kneeling before him, talking about the ceremony he appears to know Hux would want privacy for, how Phasma would be their only witness – and the flowers, the moonlight – he… he **wants** to believe it, and nearly does._

_He **wants** to believe it, and that makes all the difference. _

 

_He so nearly falls for it, so nearly believes they’ll be married the next cycle, but then he remembers sitting up in his bed as a cadet, breaking through the firewalls of every known security system, one by one, and erasing his first name from every existing record. He knows it’s impossible for Ren to know his first name – Ren swore not to take it from him, that his sense of security was not false, that Ren only wants to protect him._

_And he… **trusts** Ren. _

_Which is a terrible, terrible idea and certainly not something he should tell Ren. Or anyone, really, if he wants to preserve his dignity and reputation of being a tactical genius._

_Trusting Ren with **anything** is playing with fire, trusting Ren with his… **everything** is ill-advisable, at best, and easily the worst decision he’s ever unintentionally made. Ren **is** a wildfire, and Hux has been burned before, should know better than this, but, clearly, he doesn’t. He trusts Ren. Thus, Ren must not know his first name, and the illusion falls apart. _

_“You don’t know my name, Ren, and we are not getting married,” Hux says with certainty – it’s harder to say than he first thinks it will be, and not for the reasons it should be._

_Ren stands up, brushing off the robes, turning away from Hux to undo them, and he says plainly, “I told you it wouldn’t work.”_

_Hux should’ve listened, he supposes. Ren would know best when it comes to matters of the Force, and Hux never should have questioned it. He wouldn’t have had to come face-to-face with this… this **fixation** he has on Ren if he had just **listened**._

_Marrying Ren would provide him protection – protection he says he doesn’t need, but Ren is still coming to the gala with him, and Hux, despite his attitudes, **is** aware of his mortality. If they married, Ren would probably write his own vows. He’d probably vow to keep Hux safe. _

_Marrying Ren would be marrying into a line of nobility. There’s power in that – even if Ren is not taking claim of the names Organa or Solo. That’s a good, healthy bloodline, and Hux could afford a worthy surrogate. They could produce heirs that would grow to outshine, and honor, the both of them – children that would always have beds long enough to fit in comfortably, children that would interact with other humans their age, succeed beautifully in every way that Hux failed, have extravagant birthday celebrations, children who Hux would ferociously protect through Academy and combat training. Children Hux would kill and die for, care after in all the ways he never was._

_Ren’s genes could give them Force sensitive children._

_Hux’s heart skips a beat._

_He imagines what it would be like to go to those specialists, splice and combine their genes however they like. He imagines a little girl with black hair, a temperament like Hux’s, eyes like Ren’s, and how he would insist on her name being Ziare  Ren probably wouldn’t understand, but that doesn’t matter. She would be Force sensitive, immensely so, and Ren would teach her everything from meditation, to building illusions so complex, every sense is fooled._

_He imagines a little boy, maybe with his red hair – only so that when others saw him, saw the name Hux on his uniform too, they would know to stay out of his way. He can’t decide whose eyes he would have – he cares for Ren’s eyes, thinks there aren’t enough like them in the galaxy, and there ought to be more. Maybe that young boy would train with Phasma and Hux, be more than the twig his father was when he first went to the Academy. And he’d be Force sensitive too._

_Maybe he’d be eager to impress Hux and Ren with every small manipulation of space time, and he’d make silverware float, and his name would be Brendol, and he and Ziare would get along famously, empowering each other, making a legacy all that much greater than Hux’s father could have ever dreamt to create._

_He’s not sure why that’s all so appealing a fantasy to get lost in. Certainly marrying Ren, and even having children with the man, would be beneficial for several reasons, but marrying and procreating with Ren should not appeal at all, no matter the benefits._

_For fear of any of his thoughts voicing themselves without his permission, Hux doesn’t dare say another word until they’re working inside their illusion together. They start building a house Hux used to dream of having as a child, though he doesn’t share that either._

_There’s a garden full of imagined pastel colors, a beach that Hux doesn’t detest the smell of, and the sand doesn’t stick to his skin like itching mites. The lights inside the house are dim, the way Hux likes, and Ren walks through it with him, flicking his wrists, spinning his hands, weaving his skilled fingers through space and time with an ease Hux envies._

_At some point, they find themselves on Hux’s common room couch, done engineering together for the cycle, talking about naming it, and Ren is too much skin, too much muscle and much too relaxed, leaning back and stretching out his neck like he has no idea what he looks like._

_If Hux could bring himself to, there’s nothing stopping him from crossing the couch, crawling between Ren’s legs and lifting his hand, touching at that exposed neck, and Ren would probably look at him slowly. He’d probably lift his head from over the arm of the couch, his hair a mess, his eyes curious, and Hux would have no good explanation for his actions. He doesn’t want to choke Ren, he doesn’t want to hurt Ren – he’d just like to run his fingertips along the line of Ren’s apple, and the deep indents of his collarbone. He can’t explain that, though._

_At least, not out loud, and not to Ren._

_Hux decidedly **does not** do any of that._

_When Hux pokes fun at Ren for not knowing how to dance, he doesn’t really expect Ren to want to learn. It’s fine joking with Ren, it’s fine to bite back laughter, and let the air feel light, it’s fine to watch Ren learn the steps, fine to watch him mirror it as they move along, but once the music is on, and Ren is leading him, Hux becomes lost again._

_He thinks it’s immensely endearing, the way Ren glances down at their feet every few moments to make sure he’s not going to step on any toes, and Hux has never been so glad to have a self-conscious dance partner._

_He takes that time Ren isn't paying attention to watch the way the warm lights of his common space splay over Ren’s face, how his hair moves a little with every step and spin, watch him the way he likes to when Ren doesn’t realize he’s being watched. Distant and safe; the way Hux likes things._

_Then Ren moves his hand._

_It had been safely set on Hux’s shoulder blade, but then it is suddenly low on his waist, and welcoming itself lower. And when Hux stops moving, shocked by the intimacy, the tenderness Ren’s hands are capable of, he swears he can smell blossoms and ivy, feel cool moonlight from somewhere behind him; and before he can think about it, he takes a step forward, pressing their chests together. He knows that can’t possibly be a good idea, and the way Ren’s hand slides lower to his hip verifies that._

**_He’s not going to hurt me_** _, Hux tells himself, that spot on his hip burning in a pleasant way he’s never experienced, **I trust Ren not to hurt me.** **Ren wouldn’t strike from behind like a coward, and he takes care of my headaches. He doesn’t want to hurt me…** _

_Hux’s chest feels tight, and he can feel Ren’s heart beating against his own. Hux feels very human in that moment, and that’s dangerous, because humans are faulty, humans make mistakes, humans can’t stay numb forever, humans feel things and want for things, and Hux isn’t used to feeling human like this._

**_He doesn’t want to hurt me._ **

_A warm, tingling sensation spreads over Hux’s cheeks and ears, tickling him, and he wants to move his hands. He wants to put his hands on Ren’s biceps, or maybe his pectorals, maybe touch at the shallow indents along Ren’s abdomen…_

_Hux shouldn’t want things. Hux isn't **supposed to** want things. Hux shouldn’t want **this**. _

_Typically, when men come too close to him – men Hux even finds attractive – sirens start blaring in his head, telling him to run, because men have hurt him, men have broken him before, and none can be trusted this way. And he does hear sirens in his head, when Ren gets so close. The only sirens he hears are the ones telling him he’s being reckless, though._

**_Ren won’t hurt me. His hands are so broad… he’s gentle when he wants to be. He could be gentle with me. He could be. He would be._ **

_“Are you… planning on finishing this?” Hux asks, frightened that he’s standing on the cusp of something, feeling that crack in his shell of numbness deepening, and webbing out like shattered glass._

_He’s scared Ren can sense his thoughts. He is scared Ren can hear that encasement of numbness splintering open._

_If he does sense Hux’s thoughts, Ren says nothing, and finishes the waltz, his hand still too low, and time is a strange thing – there was so much anxiety about the gala, Hux hardly remembers anything after dancing in his room with Ren._

_He remembers boarding the pod, thinking that this is precisely how Brendol’s mother died. Dressed to the nines, in the stern, quiet company of a man she trusted, a man who made vows, a man who had power she did not, power she could never understand, only experience as a bystander. He wonders about his own mother during the trip to the gala. He keeps to himself, trying to imagine what demise she met if she ever did meet one. He wonders why it is he never heard from her again – something he never really allows himself to do for too long; he’s quieter than he initially intends on being._

_He’s even forgotten to tell Ren how handsome he looks until they’ve landed at the venue. Ren picks up his chin, distracting him from fixing at the cuffs of his uniform, and he thinks for a split second that Ren might kiss him._

_He doesn’t - Ren doesn't kiss him. He picks up Hux’s tilted chin, and tells him that he is perfect, and that he is safe. Hux has some difficulty swallowing, knows his voice will shake if he tries to speak, so he simply nods._

_Ren touches him gently with those broad hands, extends his arm and, despite it all, despite the nonsense of the desire to touch Ren, and the fear of Brendol’s mother’s death repeating itself, he puts his arm through the loop of Ren’s. Maybe too quickly. It feels too natural to be so close to Ren._

_He thinks the inside of the venue is garish, and overdone, and he thinks to himself that Ren must be thinking something similar. It takes effort not to sneer at it all for how obnoxious it is._

_Tac Antur is a fool that trusts Hux’s improvised mathematics based on how complicated they sound. He's about as insightful as a brick. He’s better company than Krin, however. Kris is as aggressive as he last remembers her, and Ren must sense his anxiety, because he spends far too much time gossiping in Hux’s head about other goers at the gala to distract Hux while Krin is talking about unimportant, personal matters._

_He’s feels a little thrill when Ren asks him to dance – he leaves Krin at the bar, glad to be alone with Ren again in that way that they are never actually alone, they always seem surrounded by people, but when they meet eyes, there is no one else. Ren dances with grace, his hands strong, his steps sure, and Hux feels safe again, just for a short while. Just for the length of the song they dance to._

_He feels something strange all night – fear unlike he has known since he was a young child. He only realizes what it is when Ren tells him to get behind him, to run – Hux has not taken orders from **anyone** since he acquired his militant status, but he doesn’t even **hesitate** to listen to Ren. _

_If he were younger, if he were in his right mind, he might have run right at the woman with her blaster, with his dagger in hand. He’s dodged perfectly aimed shots before, and he’s run headlong into danger before as well, sliced that danger open, and watched it bleed out on the floor, thinking how pathetic a threat it ever thought it was._

_But, he’s **scared**._

_He’s scared to **die**._

_He’s **scared to die** like he was when he was just twelve standard years old, hiding in the woods from his brother with nothing but that dagger, and the dimming hope that Brendol would give him a merciful end, once they inevitably found one another._

_And he’d ask himself why he is scared to die, why now, why after all these years of not caring either way, and it’s all absurd, it’s all painful, and strange, and ridiculous, because the answer is directly in front of him taking another blaster shot to his waist for Hux’s sake. The answer is standing in front of him like a great animal in the wild, looking bigger and stronger than he might really be._

_He feels that numbing agent inside him wearing off, and he panics._

_He remembers that night, running through the halls of the Academy, killing Ori, wiping up all the blood, lying to save face and whatever dignity he had left, and how the numbness had descended upon him when he looked in the mirror. The numbness has been there for so long, and he’s frightened that it is about to disappear. That his hard-earned numbness is going to vanish in the blink of an eye, because if Ren gets hurt…_

_If Ren gets hurt, he doesn’t know **what** he’ll do. _

_Ren tells him to run, holding blaster fire in the air with just an open palm, and the desire to protect Hux, and that’s no magic trick – that’s no joke. It’s the **Force** , it’s **Ren’s** incredible power, power he chooses to use to protect Hux with, and Hux thinks about marrying Ren again, thinks about the children he dreamt up, thinks about dying very soon, and not wanting to. Being scared to. Scared to die, and have no hope of seeing Ren again. Scared of dying, and that truly being the end – that thought used to be a relief, but now it’s like a heavy threat hanging over his head._

_And he runs like Ren tells him to, and he hides like Ren tells him to, despite Hux never being a man for running or hiding from death, or from **anything**. He shakes behind that bar, frightened when he hears the blaster fire destroy a decorative column, frightened when he hears people scattering and screaming, and their feet trampling the ground like a stampede, frightened to look up from over the bar, and find that Ren is hurt._

_Before he can develop some other terrible neurological disorder from all his worrying, Ren jumps from over the top of the bar, and lands right in front of him, bloody, a little sweaty, his hair a little wild, his eyes open, and concerned._

_They both open their mouths, and say in unison:_

_“Hux, are you okay?”_

_“You’re bleeding, Kylo!”_

_They both must be looking at each other with such fear, Hux can feel it all over his face, and can’t bring himself to care enough about masking it. Ren – no, **Kylo** – Kylo touches at the blood splatter on Hux’s white uniform jacket, feeling at his sides and chest, checking for wounds, obviously distracted by the blood splatter on him._

_“It’s **your blood** , you fool!” Hux tells him, unsure of how loud his voice is, his heartbeat drowning out most other sounds, “I’m fine!”_

_Kylo **smirks** at him, the **arse** that he is, and says, “I told you. Did I not tell you I would protect you? There was never reason to –”_

_Hux doesn’t let Kylo finish that thought. He can’t. He feels something crack, something splinter and break into a thousand shards. His heart is breaking or bleeding, his stomach turning, his face is hot, his eyes are hotter, and he springs from his kneeling position throwing himself onto Kylo. He wraps his arms around Kylo, one hand twining shamelessly in Kylo’s thick, beautiful hair, and the other slithering under Kylo’s strong arm to hold his back, and clutch at his broad shoulder._

_He tucks his face into the crook of Kylo’s neck. He breathes in deeply, his nose and lips dragging against the skin there._

**_I was scared, Kylo, I was scared to die, and it’s your fault. You’ve done something, I’m broken now, but in a different way – you didn’t mean to break me, and maybe I broke myself? All I can tell is that something is different, and I’m feeling something, I’m feeling everything, and it’s too much, and I should hate you, but I don’t. Please, be okay. Don’t leave me now. Don’t stray far._ **

_“Please tell me you aren’t seriously wounded,” Hux manages to request through a tight, hot throat, thinking that Kylo’s hair feels soft against him and smells wonderful._

_“I am not,” Kylo replies, sounding uneasy, “I swear, I’m – the blast just grazed me.”_

_Kylo doesn’t hold him back immediately, and Hux honestly doesn’t care. He needs to hold Kylo, and he’s never had to hold anyone before. He’s never been so scared to die, he’s never been so scared to lose someone, he’s never had an irreplaceable death. If Kylo were it, he thinks it might destroy him. It would leave a rip in the cosmos Hux might fall into and never escape from._

_“You’re an idiot. This is all my fault. We never should have come – I should have found someway out of this. That was dangerous. How could you be sure you could hold all that blaster fire? And for how long? Do you know how fucked up that was to be splattered with **your** blood, and hear you telling me to **run**?” Hux keeps asking questions against the warm skin of Kylo’s neck, but Kylo doesn’t answer him. Hux thinks he might not be listening._

_That’s fine, though, because Kylo finally **holds him back** , effectively silencing him. When his arms come around Hux, it’s like wings that have been trapped under Hux’s skin for decades break through the mold, the crust, and the dust, and spread for the first time. There are butterflies in his stomach, he’s light, he’s free from something he didn’t know he was entrapped by; he could **weep** if he were a weaker man. _

_Kylo holds him, and he’s **free**. He feels no fear – he doesn’t feel trapped, or threatened by Kylo encasing him. In fact, he wants more than that – he wants Kylo to keep holding him until he is sure he is real, until he is sure his father can’t hurt him, until he’s sure Brendol would forgive him, until he’s sure his mother really did care about him, until he’s sure D’Jac and Ori are not haunting his peripheries, until he is sure he’s alive, and he never wants to die so long as Kylo is alive too._

**_Don’t let go, don’t let go, don’t let go, don’t let go, don’t let go –_ **

_“You’re okay, Hux – I promise, it’s over – you’re okay –"_

_“I know,” Hux interrupts, not feeling okay at all, “I… that’s not what… I know I’m okay. That’s not what I’m fearful of.”_

_Kylo moves one hand to cradle the back of Hux’s head, threading his fingers through Hux’s hair, turns his face to the crown of Hux’s head, and breathes in deeply; Hux can hear it and feel it._

_Hux knows he should have let go by now. One of them should have let go by now._

_“Hux,” Kylo says._

_He puts his lips against Hux’s temple, and Hux thinks Kylo’s lips are just as soft as he imagined them to feel. It’s reassuring, and Hux opens his mouth to ask Kylo if he sees wings on his back that might not have been there until this very moment. Or maybe if he sees some strings that once puppeteer Hux, now broken and strewn about._

_“I’m so glad you’re safe,” Kylo tells him._

_And Hux can’t respond because there are no words adequate enough to describe his relief of Kylo’s own safety. He can’t respond, because he feels just the same, and that might mean too much – that might be too much to show or share. Kylo has saved him._

_In more ways than one._

_The numbness is gone, but he’s safe in Kylo’s arms. He knows this even as he knows nothing else is true._


	14. Chapter 14

_Every nurse on **Aurora** must be completely incompetent. _

 

_Hux is sure of it._

 

_That, or Ren might just make them all so nervous, with his tendency to destroy things in his pain and anger, that they can’t even manage to apply bacta gel with any attention to what is already cauterized (they should **all** know that just because it’s cauterized doesn’t mean it’s without risk of infection, the absolute dunces) – but fearing Ren is no excuse to do a shoddy job sanitizing a gaping blaster wound. And Hux has never been too shy to tell someone they’re doing a shite job. _

_Hux pushes some sad, anxious excuse for a nurse out of the way, saying to her angrily, “that’s no way to sanitize a wound – where exactly did you get your schooling? Behind some dive bar in the Midrim? Couldn’t be, clearly – you probably would’ve learned more there than wherever you learned to dress lesions. Now, get out of my way.”_

_Ren looks like he might want to smile at Hux’s sharp temper, but can’t bring himself to for some reason. Hux would be sorry for that, but he too is feeling solemn and irritable. He thinks the buzz he got at the bar with Krin is wearing off, and his natural anesthetic is vanishing quickly too, has been since Ren got shot – which only puts him more on edge. He’s feeling cagey and defensive, unrested, but restless. It’s not a good combination with little sleep, an abundance of anxiety, no food, and too much alcohol._

_Looking at Ren’s wounds is difficult – he hates to see the robes ruined, he hates that Ren is hurt where there is already scar tissue, and he won’t stand for substandard care for Ren. Not this cycle._

_He sanitizes the wound (_ **properly** _, thank you very much_ _), cleans some of the blood away, assessing the damage, where it might bruise, and where it might scar. While he’s concentrated on taking care of what the nurse before him was so incapable of, Ren compliments him by saying, “beautiful job you’ve done there.”_

_Hux has always responded well to praise, but he still can’t smile right now, but with some effort, he manages to smirk a little sardonically, and replies, “impressed are you? You should see my work with a tourniquet.”_

**_Why did I just say that?_ ** _Hux’s drunken, slowed brain asks him._

_Hoping Ren won’t ask more about that, he applies some pressure to the pad on Ren’s waist, soaking up what blood is still running there. He hopes the pressure causes some pain, hopes he’ll hear Ren seethe, and can distract him with something other than the unfiltered thought that just slipped from him. Ren makes him so careless._

_He should know better, though, than to think Ren would let **anything** go._

_“You’ve had to make a tourniquet before?”_

**_Don’t make a big deal of it_** _, Hux tells himself, **H** **e won’t ask about The Culling if he doesn’t think it’s remarkable enough. Just downplay.**_

_“Certainly,” Hux says with composure, sitting back on one of the rolling chairs nearby, “People died in combat training. My class started with two-hundred and thirty-five, and only one-hundred and twenty were left alive to graduate. Only one-hundred of those alive actually did.”_

_“Were you able to rescue whoever was wounded?” Ren asks curiously, clearly not catching on to Hux’s subtle redirection of conversation topic, “With your tourniquet?”_

_“In a sense, yes,” Hux admits, remembering that the boy lasted through The Culling, at least, “but he was fairly useless afterward.”_

_He swears he can feel the weight of the axe in his hands, so similar to the hatchet he was once forced to thrash around like a maniac for the sake of a life that was hardly worth living. To shake the phantom tactile sensation, he stands up, and goes to the sinks. He turns only the hot water on, and he knows he’s going to burn himself._

_Burning himself with that steaming water reminds him of the night he tried to kill himself, how hot the bath was, how red his skin turned, nearly boiled alive, and maybe that would’ve been better. When ghosts haunt him, when his body reminds him of everything he wished were a nightmare, he washes in scalding water. It helps to calm him._

_It helps to numb him._

 

_He just keeps burning himself, until he can't feel anything anymore._

 

_Until his very soul is cauterized._

_“One functional leg does that to a boy, I suppose,” Hux comments as nonchalantly as he can, waiting for the water to get hotter, waiting for the numbness to start._

_“He lost his leg?” Ren asks, as if it’s a **surprise**._

_“Certainly did,” Hux answers, scrubbing at his hands, getting under his nails, ignoring the unpleasant tactile sensation of the cuffs of his sleeves getting damp, “After the final written exam at combat training, the class is split into two squadrons with two respective squadron leaders. I was one of them, obviously.”_

**_Now he’ll ask me about the responsibilities of being squadron leader, and we can move on_** _, Hux thinks to himself, watching the red swirl down the sink drain._

_“Is this the memory that causes you such pain to recount combat training?”_

_The question is asked with delicacy, but Hux’s entire body tightens, stiffens uncomfortably in response, and he swears he feels blood pool somewhere lower than his feet. The numbness isn’t setting in fast enough, or perhaps it's not setting in at all, and he wants it back. He wants the safety, the recognition of it, back. He’s in a No Man’s Land he’s never crossed before – he’s too raw for this._

_He hadn’t expected Ren to ever be brave enough to just ask him outright about combat training._

_Hux knows what happens to him, when combat training is brought up – Phasma has told him before that he “leaves his eyes,” and she’s told him to go to some professional for it, so that he can stop doing that, as it “freaks her out,” but Hux would sooner gouge his own eyes out with his thumbs than sit on a couch, and recount combat training to someone who thinks there are rhymes or reasons that apply universally to all human brains. If Hux has learned anything, it’s that human behavior and thought is as chaotic and unpredictable as all else in the universe._

_Sure, it appears to have patterns, but in larger scopes, when in full view of it – men wise as Hux can see there is no perfect science. And anyone who believes there’s a pill, or phrase, or an empty chair practice, that can fix away his ghosts is a buffoon._

_“No,” Hux answers, trying to keep his voice even, **hoping** he will leave his eyes, leave his body, leave Ren, and his life, and transcend into nothingness before he has to expound._

_Ren has thrown him off by being so direct, so it takes him a beat to reassess the situation, and deflect – he keeps his hands under the water, the skin of his hands feeling like they’re made of small needles. Everything still hurts, everything is still breaking and bleeding. He’s on the sharp edge of a panic he might not be able to hide._

_Hux says, trying hard to deflect without appearing to, “I didn’t care about that boy – I didn’t care about any of them. Even now, I can’t recall his name.”_

_Hux nearly wants to laugh at himself, the numbness isn’t coming, and he’s tipsy, but with no buzz, and he swears he feels a migraine coming on, and Ren is fucking interrogating him about combat training. Where in the woods of his life did he make the wrong fucking turn, and wind up here?_

_Never one to stray from a plan of attack, Hux continues in his attempt to redirect Ren’s attention, “he was so grateful to me for saving his life at the end… rather, I granted him six days, and five nights, of a sluggish, fevered death – absolute torture with no alleviation from the pain, but for nightmare-addled sleep. During The Culling, he didn’t sleep until the last night in the woods. I think he knew – I think he knew then that, even when we stepped out into the clear the next day, he would die soon.”_

_“You won’t tell me, will you?”_

_Ren asks so plainly._

_Hux is tempted to kill him._

_Turning around, Hux focuses his straying attentions on keeping his face unreadable; he has no ready strategy for this situation – he never prepared for Ren to be so perceptive, nor so persistent, and his brain is slowed by the alcohol, and his empty stomach, and the broken something inside him that’s shattered, and bleeding, and hurting, more than it ever has._

_“Tell you what?”_

_Hux doesn’t like being obtuse like this, but he’s stalling for time. He doesn’t know how he’ll get Ren to let this go._

_“What happened at combat training.”_

_Ren has no idea how lucky he is that Hux has such a degree of self-restraint, otherwise he might have punched Ren across the face for asking him more about something he **very apparently** doesn’t want to talk about._

_“You honestly want to hear more horror stories like that?” Hux tries to ask casually._

_“A quarter of the food is poisoned, children being pitted against one another to the death, forced to overcome impossible odds with little to no supplies – yes, it sounds like a horror, but something more than a horror happened.”_

_Hux’s stomach churns._

_“And, it happened to you.”_

_Hux doesn’t know what to say. He feels something like a macabre nostalgia wash over him, he feels caught, exposed, like Ren might somehow already know the worst of it, and he’s just taunting now. That he just wants Hux to admit he's damaged goods. That he's been used, been objectified, been dehumanized, been victimized, brutalized, and is stained with it all._

_“I think that whatever happened is what made you want to kill yourself,” Ren continues, still so idiotically unaware that every nudge more he makes in the direction of the truth is like a twisting knife in Hux’s stomach, “and you keep this all from me – you keep yourself a secret still. You will let me in your space, you let me touch you, fight you, defend you, learn from you – you are strategic to the very end. And I might wish someday for you to stop strategizing around me.”_

_Ren stands up, holding his freshly bandaged side, and Hux feels a rush of fear and anger take over; he’s convinced Ren already knows, and the panic newly born in him makes him feel crazed like a giant beast pacing a cage too small. Being watched by eyes he cannot blind from this distance._

_Ren nearly died a few hours ago, nearly died **for Hux** , like he’s ever been worth more than an unruly weed, and he feels **everything** again so suddenly, with no way of grounding himself. This is not a conversation he can have right now. It’s not a conversation he’s **ever** wanted to have._

_“You once admitted that your entire personality is strategized,” Ren says, “I haven’t forgotten. I keep thinking that at some point, you’ll stop seeing me as some… other player in a game. I’m not looking for intel on you. I am trying to be close to you – in a way no one else ever has, or will be again.”_

**_If you can’t shut this off, shut him down. Quickly._ **

_“To leave me?” Hux barks, rage cresting like a wave that’s been building from the moment Ren stepped onto the **Finalizer** , the moment Ori tried to voice his concern for Hux’s wellbeing, the moment his father called him an 'ingrate,' for admitting he drew a fucking bird, “Just to leave? Yes – you wanted me to trust you like I had no other, you wanted to be – be – be whatever the Hells you thought I…”_

_When Hux trails off, he’s not sure how he wants to finish that thought – he rubs at the center of his chest, feeling how hard his heart pounding, how angrily it drums. He wants to cry – he can feel the heat behind his eyes again, and he hates himself, he hates this fear, he hates this insecurity, he wants the numbness back._

**_If you can’t shut this off, shut him down. Now._ **

_“I trust you to disappoint.”_

_The short silence that follows is leaden, and Hux should probably regret saying anything at all – he’s lying at the same time that he’s not, and he doesn’t think Ren will be able to tell the difference. If Hux is this confused about his own trust of Ren, Ren certainly wouldn’t be able to decipher it._

_Every survival instinct is telling Hux to bite, and to bite hard, though, and he does. He knows how to bite – it’s **all** he knows how to do._

_That in the face of someone he cares about coming after him when he is weak, when he is defenseless, and feeling too small to belong to the cosmos that he does, all he knows to do is bite, and bite hard - raise that hatchet above his head, and keep swinging until the noise and crying stops, reach into his boot, and throw that dagger until a body hits the floor - until everything just fucking_ _ **stops** ,_ _and he can return to the numbness, and the protection of his own self control._

_“I trust you to throw me to the wayside as soon as Supreme Leader Snoke tells you to. In fact, I trust you to kill me the moment he decides he doesn’t care much for me anymore. I trust you to fail, and to fail spectacularly because of your childish rage, to be unable to mind my privacy, control yourself, or your powers, and I trust you to leave.”_

_They stare silently at each other for a while, until Hux expounds coldly, “this is what I have known, Ren. You will leave as everyone leaves. So, what does it matter? What does it matter, what was done to me at combat training? What does it matter that I was forced to kill my brother? What does it matter that I never heard from my mother again? What does it matter? You’re leaving. And that’s all I can really trust. That’s all I trust of anyone.”_

_Ren looks worried about him, and Hux hates him more for it, and can’t stand how badly he wants Ren to keep caring about him, anyway – he wants Ren to see through this charade at the same time he doesn’t want to be seen for what he is, and what he allowed to be done to him. He doesn’t want Ren to see the truth of him, and turn away in disgust, or horror, or pity._

_Ren has wholly, and truly, fucked Hux’s head, hacked it into hemorrhaging chunks of useless grey matter, paler and bloodier than Brendol’s ghost standing too close to the bedside._

 

_“That’s the only consistency I’ve found. It’s the only truth there is. You’ll leave, like you were meant to, and it won’t matter – what I’ve said, or haven’t said. And when I leave in death, those stories won’t matter then either. Oblivion is there, and I welcome it – finally allowing me to reach my peak of meaninglessness.”_

_“You’re making little sense now, Hux,” Ren says gently, approaching Hux stiltedly, “I… I don’t know if you mean what you say. Your mind is muddled by the alcohol, the adrenaline crash, and a sense of dread – which I could take from you, if you so desired, but I sense you don’t really want me so near right now. You should rest. I’ll help you to your quarters.”_

**_No, don’t fucking touch me – don’t touch me – I need to get away from you. How can you not sense this? Either come so close that we are some one singular thing, and never fucking leave me, or get far enough away from me that I can get back to the man I have painstakingly chiseled into being, you clod. Just fucking choose already, though. I hate you. I hate you. Don’t let me leave. Take the dread from me – take everything I have. I hate you. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know who I am tonight, or if I've ever been anyone at all, I just hate you, that you’ve made me this way, that you forgive me for what I’ve just said, and I hate you. I hate you, Ren. Don’t let me leave. Don’t leave me alone. Don’t stray far. Don’t stop caring. Let me keep my wings. I need them. I need you. Please._ **

_Ren doesn’t say anything in time._

_“I’ll be on the observation deck,” Hux announces coolly, wanting to die about as much as he wants to live, and there’s crippling fear in both choices, “Interrogate the hostage – if she’s a rebel, bleed what information you can from her. When she is no longer useful, come to me, and I will decide what to do with her.”_

_Ren nods to him silently, dutifully, and that’s enough. Hux can’t take anymore, so he leaves with his hands shaking violently, thinking he needs more to drink, and **now**._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does this mean the next chapter features Drunk!Hux and we FINALLY get to know how much he remembers of that night???  
> Yes! Yes, it does! I know my updates have been a little more sporadic than normal - I'm still on vacation in Tampa, so it's been hard to find time enough to edit my chapters and post them, but I'll be home relatively soon and will be back on track after that! Hope you enjoy your update!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Hux is very drunk, has a brief, vague flashback to D'Jac's assault on him and because he's intoxicated, most, if not all, of what he does and shares can be construed as dub-con. 
> 
> As a side note: Some of you may have noticed that I turned on the 'comment moderation,' option for this fic and comments aren't immediately made public anymore. This change was due to some rude commenters and this message does not apply to the majority of you, but I've said it in past Author's Notes and I fear I have to say it again.
> 
> There is etiquette in writing and reading. I work my ass off for this fic; it's beyond novel-length and many, many unpaid hours go into writing, editing, perfecting and producing a specific tone and quality to it that I'm happy to deliver, but if my writing isn't your jam, that's fine - whether you like the writing or not (and if you don't, I don't really understand why you're still reading it or commenting on it at all), you still need to respect that this is hard work. Leaving rude comments is thoughtless, careless and disheartening - it's totally unnecessary. Whether you like it or not, a lot of work has gone into this project and there needs to be some basic respect given to the person offering you free content. 
> 
> For those of you that don't know or don't understand the difference between constructive criticism and rude commenting, I'll provide examples. 
> 
> Constructive Criticism: "I feel like __ was out of character in the scene where A and B happened. That __ did x and y instead of z just felt out of place," "At times, the changes in POV are confusing and I have to back-track and reread things to get an understanding," "There were several tangental ideas going on in this chapter and it was hard to follow."
> 
> That's constructive criticism. A constructive criticism allows me to grow as a writer - and I know most of you know that I reply to a lot of comments because I like to engage you all about it. When you leave constructive criticisms, I will ask more about it - I want to continue growing as a writer, I honestly do appreciate constructive criticisms and on past projects that have received constructive criticisms, I've learned a great deal from them too. I'll ask you why you feel that certain way, what would have felt more natural or made more sense - or maybe the gripe you have with the scene is purposefully off-putting for later use in the story. Either way, I'll engage you about it and I'm happy to learn from my audience. Rude comments are not the same as constructive criticisms, though.
> 
> Rude Comment: "I hate the X trope, I hope this doesn't last long," "this chapter was such a let-down," "omg when is this part going to end and we can get back to the good stuff??" "when are they gonna bone already," "I hate when writers (like you) do X in fics."
> 
> Constructive criticism politely offers insight and something specific to grow from. Rude comments are opinion-based statements that do nothing for a writer but make them not want to write.
> 
> This past month or so, across a few fandoms, I've been inundated with rude commenters. I can't tell if trolls are out looking for me or I'm doing something to attract trolls? Either way, it's become such a hassle that I had to change my settings to moderate comments before allowing them to be public. Which is a bummer. I’m really, really sad I have to mod comments now. Something I loved was AO3′s delayed email alerts. So, I’d post a chapter and refresh the page an hour later and it would have like 6 new comments on it and I’d be so excited to see them, because it’s like getting a surprise gift in the mail or something. Now, though, I have to mod comments just to avoid people being unnecessarily rude, which takes away the pleasant surprise of comments arriving AND gives me anxiety about opening them up.
> 
> If you would like to engage me constructively about my writing, I am more than happy to listen and learn from it. If you can only think to say something rude and opinion-based, please do not comment. It wastes my time and it also wastes yours (I don't understand what you get out of leaving rude comments, I seriously don't - your rude comment isn't going to change the way I have decided to tell this particular story, particularly if your rude comment is based on personal biases that I don't/won't cater to), so please, take note of the difference between constructive criticism and rude commenting and think before leaving reviews - especially on massive creative works being offered for free.
> 
> For those of you that comment consistently and politely with encouragement and support - thank you for putting your time and energy towards that. It means more than you know. /end rant/

_“Excuse me, General Hux?”_

_Hux is standing in front of the viewport on the control bridge – it’s quiet out there, with one work shift coming close to an end, and the throbbing in his head is appreciative for the near silence. The past cycle has been an unforgiving emotional battering ram, and he is on the precipice of something enormous, he’s nearly too frightened to acknowledge it at all._

_He has his arms crossed over his chest in an informal fashion he’d typically yell at someone else for, but otherwise, his posture speaks to control, and poise, as it usually does (and ought to). His hands are still shaking, but they’re neatly tucked away in his crossed arms._

 

_Never let them see you sweat._

_He looks over to his left, where he heard his name called, and Officer Haas is there, trying to look unconcerned, but failing._

_“Yes, Haas?”_

_“I never had any doubt that you would rejoin us,” Haas starts, straightening his back, his tone implying that others **did** have doubts, “However, I wanted to express my happiness at your safe return.”_

_“My gratitude, Haas. I’m glad to have safely returned as well,” Hux replies, “Come – stand next to me.”_

_Without so much as blinking, Haas rushes to Hux’s side, and waits for further instruction. He seems dazzled by Hux’s military “whites,” despite their bloodied cuffs. He’s enamored with Hux’s several medals pinned to his chest._

 

_While watching Haas’s reflection in the viewport, but allowing Haas to believe he isn’t examining the boy’s reaction, Hux asks, “what do you think of me, Haas?”_

_Haas’s eyes widen, and color fills his face._

_“Sir, I’m not entirely sure what you mean.”_

_In a quieter tone, so that only the two of them can hear the conversation, Hux expounds, “do you think I am an unfeeling man?”_

_Hux can sense Haas’s nervous energy. It’s nearly palpable._

_No matter what, Hux still has the fear of his underlings. When they don’t adore him, when he can’t control them, and when they won’t respect him, they fear him. This is the way things have always been, and after a night like Hux has just had, a return to some normalcy is more than welcome._

_“No, sir,” Haas answers honestly, and immediately, “Not at all. I have always considered you a man of passion.”_

 

* * *

 

“My father is right about one thing; you are dramatic.”

 

“I’m a man of passion. There is a difference.”

 

“There is absolutely no difference when it comes to you.”

 

* * *

 

_“A man of passion?” Hux asks, his cheeks feeling warm, remembering how much he wanted to laugh when Ren referred to himself with the same terms, “Really?”_

_“Certainly,” Haas replies with a single nod, “Your dedication to the Order, your unyielding work ethic, your courage, and loyalty – these are all signs of great leaders, and great leaders feel deeply for those they lead, the causes they fight for. I am positive you will see the First Order to victory, General Hux. You are a man of passion, and I do believe that it is these feeling qualities of yours that will see us to that victory.”_

_Haas is clearly overjoyed to be of some emotional service, to be asked of his personal opinion. Hux is fairly sure that if he ordered it of Haas, the poor fool would stand there, and wax poetic about Hux for however long he cared to hear it. He's very nearly tempted to test that hypothesis. He has other things on his mind, though._

_“Would you consider yourself an expert on my military history?”_

_“Yes, sir, I certainly would,” Haas responds proudly._

_Nodding, Hux turns to face Haas, and states, “I’m going to give you a hypothetical situation, and I want your opinion on what you think would happen, given your expertise.”_

_“Understood, sir.”_

_“Good,” Hux begins, keeping his face even, and stoic, “Imagine that we are outside the very last standing Rebellion camp, and I am leading our troops. Imagine that this particular Rebel camp has a weapon unlike we have ever seen or known – a weapon we would be powerless to stop, if fired against us. It is possibly the greatest threat we have ever known. We have time enough to retreat, reconvene even, but the camp will be moved to an unknown location the moment we aren’t engaging it, and we all know that. The logical course of action would be to retreat – their weapon could decimate us, and there is no promise of victory. A momentous turning point in the war would be won, however, if against all odds, we succeeded.”_

_Blonde hairs shifting a little, Haas tilts his head, still clearly listening, attempting to visualize the given scenario. Hux is only hoping he’s not being too obvious about what he’s really talking about here. Hux doesn’t think much of the collective intellect of his subordinates typically, but this past cycle has really done a number on him, and he’s rather worried he’s wearing his heart out on his sleeve. That, by just looking at him, everyone knows what he’s really thinking. That everyone around him can read him with as much ease, and unfeeling precision as Ren._

_“If we retreat, we live to keep fighting – for who knows how long. But, we will be safer. No more will be lost. Distance will grant us safety. If we stay, and even if we succeed, attain everything we could have ever wanted in our outcome – we would have to endure great pains for it. Greater pains than maybe any of us can know, until we are in the thick of it.”_

_Looking solemn, Haas nods his understanding at Hux, and Hux finishes, “given your expertise on my records, and past battle strategies, in this hypothetical situation, what would you foresee my order being? Do you think I would order to retreat, and keep the army more in tact, or do you think I would give the order to potentially walk us all into our own demises for the hope of something… worthwhile beyond it?”_

_“Given your history, sir, I would forecast your order being to charge forward,” Haas answers, then looks away briefly, and requests more softly, “and… may I be frank?”_

_Quirking a curious brow, Hux nods._

_“I do believe you would give the order to charge forward – the fear of the unknown, the fear of death, the fear of injury, or pain – these fears have never seemed to belong to you. But, in the event that my forecast was wrong, and you would retreat… I believe you would regret it for the rest of your days. I think you would know this too, and for more than anything else, I believe you would keep us charging forward, because you would probably like to die having attempted the height of greatness, than to die without having chased after it, and so, to die much later with regret.”_

_This answer piques Hux’s interest. His heart is pounding hard, but he’s not letting that show on his face. His ears might be reddish. He can’t tell. His mind is so splintered._

_“Why do you think that? That I would regret… not trying?” Hux asks, not unkindly._

_“You’re a man of passion, yes, fearless too, and among these admirable traits, you are a man of action. If there was something greater beyond some pain, and you retreated, I think you are the type of man to regret that. Great men endure great pains, for even greater glories, and you, sir, are a great man due many glories.”_

_“Greater than my father, you think?”_

_Haas doesn’t miss a beat._

_“Greater than he could likely put his pride aside long enough to understand.”_

**_The kid really is an expert on me_** _, Hux thinks, wondering at how most Academy students graduate thinking the world of his father, and how he is very secretly pleased that Haas is not among those students._

_Swallowing hard, already trying to conjure a plan of action, Hux orders Haas to fetch him whiskey, which the boy is all too pleased to do for him. When Haas returns with it, he entertains the boy with stories of some of his finest moments in battle, allowing Haas to ask him long-winded questions about his mindset, and thought process during those battles._

_Haas’s mismatched eyes twinkle with admiration, and lovesickness; it’s a nice ego-boost, and one Hux desperately needs if he’s going to try to have the conversation he thinks he’s just agreed to trying to have with Ren. Or himself. Perhaps he should consult Phasma about the hypothetical situation that is not at all hypothetical._

**_No. Probably a bad idea. She would sooner strap me to a bench in an interrogation chamber, and demand to know where the ‘real,’ Hux is before helping me with this particular problem_** _, Hux admits to himself._

_Once Hux finishes a single bottle, he decides he wants more – or needs more. He’s not sure about the difference anymore, actually._

_There are still tremors in his hands, so he must need more – this is his lethargic brain’s logic. He can feel the sluggish movement of his thoughts – he’s thinking that maybe if he drinks enough, Kylo Ren will have never existed. He’ll drink so much, he’ll wake up hung over, Phasma shoving a protein drink in his face, and Kylo Ren will have been some sort of fever dream Hux will have sweat out into his sheets._

_He sends Haas for more whiskey, at which point Phasma appears by his side, and he doesn’t remember a lot of what she said to him – mostly scolding, if he recalls correctly. She wants him to go to bed or something, but fuck her. He’d tell her why he’s drinking like he is, if he could articulate it, but he’s pretty pissed at this point, and even if he weren’t pissed beyond sharing, and examining his thoughts, and feelings, they’re still a tangled web._

_She’s telling him something about having to rise from his quarters for the next work cycle in only nine hours, and how he should really make his way to his room, and blah, blah, blah..._

_He’s too busy thinking about Ren, though._

_Ren’s hair mostly. Ren's hair is like the soft feathers of a dark, war bird. Ren’s hair is beautiful._ **Ren** _is beautiful. It’s_ **terrible.**

 

_Hux is nauseous, and his heart keeps doing this fluttery thing, even after he's consulted it directly about stopping that nonsense._

 

_Hux doesn’t make messes –_ **Ren** _makes messes. Hux is tidy and fastidious, while Ren destroys things and leaves wreckage everywhere. So, the mess of his brain must be the doing of Ren, since **he** would certainly never make such a mess. Yes, Ren is to blame. Just by existing. He’s such a fucking menace. Hux hates him._

_“I thought I was done with gripes,” Hux mutters forlornly, slumping forward, and rubbing his forehead with both hands, messing his hair up as he does._

_He doesn’t remember when he sat down on the floor – it’s undignified. If his father could see him now, the man would have an absolute fit._

_He can’t tell how long he’s been out there drinking either, now. And, now that he’s thought of that as well – where is Haas with the “more whiskey?” Haas ought to be back by now._

_Phasma walks away while he’s thinking that (he may have vocalized it? He’s not sure.), and he’s worried she’s mad at him, but he’ll fix that issue later. Right now, he needs more whiskey, and for Ren to stop existing. Also, there is a star cluster they’re passing, and it’s bright, bright blue from this distance, and quite nice to look at._

_Right then, that abomination just appears at his side, like a dark joke told in poor taste. To worsen the situation, Ren’s only half-dressed; his lower half still in his bloodied black pants, and the black boots with the gold designs, his chest bare, but for the wrappings._

_Even bandaged and fatigued, he’s beautiful. It doesn't even make sense._

 

_Hux tries to hate Ren more for that, but he’s really quite pleased to see Ren’s face instead of the mask. It’s always nice to see Ren’s eyes._

_He ought to tell Ren that. Maybe if Ren knows his eyes are beautiful, he’ll stop wearing that mask all the time. Hux attempts to do just that, to compliment Ren, but he only manages to say, “good work with the – no bucket. No bucket. Good. Good. You know I hate it. I don’t like it. I don’t like your –"_

_“Yes, I know,” Ren interrupts, “You dislike my mask. Is it that you dislike my mask, or that you very much like my face?”_

**_Your face is amazing, and I want to punch it._ **

_“Yes.”_

_Ren breathes a little laugh through his nose, then he tilts his head, following Hux’s eyes to that star cluster, and he asks, “any particular reason you’re staring out there? Something caught your eye? A planet, maybe? A moon? A star? Whatever it is, I’ll fetch it for you now, if you’d like.”_

**_What?_ **

_“A star?” Hux asks, turning to face Ren; Ren’s a bit blurry, and the room probably isn’t in motion, but it sure seems that way, “You’d get me a star, Ren? If I asked? If I asked you for a star, you’d just – you’d just walk on out of here, and get it for me?”_

_“Absolutely.”_

**_That’s ridiculous. You say such wonderful things sometimes. You’re wonderful sometimes. It’s awful._ **

_“ **Pfft**! That’s absurd. You say things that are – you are, actually… really, though?”_

_“Yes, really.”_

_Ren looks so earnest, so honest. Hux’s heart flutters again, but it doesn’t feel bad. He is acquiring a taste for that particular sensation, he supposes._

**_Sounds like a good wedding gift for our fake marriage, that Phasma’s fake-witnessing. Millicent will be the fake ring-bearer, also, I forgot to tell you._ **

_“What a romantic gesture,” Hux is able to get out – which is more eloquence than he thought he’d be capable of in the moment._

_He thinks if he gathers himself up enough, he can put more complicated words together – really let Ren in. Tell him what’s truly on his mind._

**_Stars would be a perfect gift, though. They shine so brightly. Would you lasso one for me, or just name one after me? Would you condense it somehow, use the Force to fit into the crown of a ring, and propose with it? Would you destroy it in my honor? You know, my name means “golden,” – in my homeworld’s linguistic roots. My name is “golden,” isn’t that awful? My mother named me. It’s an awful name. I’m not what she wanted me to be. She couldn’t save me. I’ve become my father – I think that’s what she meant that day – that day I showed you. She couldn’t save me from becoming something lesser. I’m not golden like she wanted me to be, Ren. I don’t deserve a star. I think I’m a weed. I think I'm meant to be ripped up. I don’t remember why._ **

_“Stars are golden.”_

**_Close enough._ **

_“Yes,” Ren replies, “Yes, they are – how about we go admire them from your viewport, Hux? You can get out of those dirty clothes, wash off the grime of the cycle, and settle into bed, and if you think of a star you’d like, you let me know.”_

**_How are you so collected right now? I’m the collected one. Not you. You’re the walking disaster one._ **

_“I almost – I almost died today.”_

_“Well, not really,” Ren says casually, “I was there. And Death will need to do away with me first if it’s got any plan for taking you. What have I been telling you?”_

_“I needn’t fear any beast while you’re beside me,” Hux recites proudly – he might not be able to walk in a straight line right now, but he can remember this totally asinine thing that makes no sense, and has no meaning, and he’s drunk enough to be proud about it._

_Ren smiles weakly at him, “that’s right. You know, I was sure you’d be an unpleasant drunk – an angry drunk, even, but you’re rather amicable.”_

**_Don’t feed the Drunk Hux, Ren. Phasma is in charge of alerting the general public about this. There’s a sign somewhere, or something about this. ‘Don’t feed or harass the Drunk Hux.’ Ren. You idiot._ **

_“Drunk Hux thanks you.”_

_Ren cocks a brow, “Drunk Hux?”_

_“Drunk Hux makes bad decisions,” Hux explains, trying to recall stories he’s heard of Drunk Hux, but he can’t remember any right now, “Decisions I would never make. And he’s me, but not me? If I get drunk enough, I become Drunk Hux. Drunk Hux is an asshole.”_

_Ren smirks like he’s got a quip in mind, but he wisely keeps it to himself, and says instead, “is that so? He seems pleasant enough to me.”_

**_Stars, you are so oblivious, it is mindboggling._ **

_“First of all, you’re pretty – Drunk Hux is nicer to pretty people,” Hux admits, knowing this much about his drunken and rumored persona, “but that’s not what makes him an asshole – he’s just – like – this one time, I woke up after too much drinking, and-and there was a glass of water on the bedside table, and two painkillers, which was so, so, so - it was so thoughtful. I was so thankful, I was like – I was thinking – I said, ‘thank you, Drunk Hux, that was very thoughtful,’ and I took the pills, right, and then took a long swig of the water, but the water was not water, the water was vodka, and he knew – he **totally knew** I was going to think it was water, and take a big gulp of it when waking up. Isn’t that awful? He’s awful. He talks too much as well. This is too much. I can already tell. I don’t talk this much. My tongue feels sort of numb. And my lips are tingly.”_

**_All of my thoughts are just coming out now. Did I have too much? I may have had too much._ **

_“Remember that bit about showering, and getting into comfortable clothes? Remember, about the viewport in your room?” Ren prompts._

**_Right, I wanted to go to my room – good of you to remind me. You’re not useless all the time._ **

_“Right, yes, there was a plan – right, must stick to the schedule.”_

_Hux remembers stumbling, and Ren catching him, vaguely recalls getting from the viewport at the control bridge to the one in his room. He takes a very long time showering. Well, actually, he just leaves the water running for about ten minutes while he rubs Millicent’s belly as she lies in the sink. She’s so cute when she does that – he adores Millicent. He loves that cat so much. She is his tiny, sweet princess. He nearly walks out of the refresher to alert Ren to the fact that he adores his cat, but remembers that he’s naked, and the water is running, and he’s supposed to be showering. So, he decides to stumble into the shower, instead._

_The next thing Hux remembers is sparring on the floor near his bed, and being on top of Ren, and liking being on top of Ren. **Really** liking being on top of Ren._

_He sits on Ren’s chest, not quite ready to move again yet, then he feels a thump, and laughs out, “just felt your fucking heart against my ass – what in the stars are you scared of, Ren?”_

_“Hearts don’t just do that out of fear.”_

**_Don’t say that, Ren. I need your fear. You don’t respect me, I can’t control you, and you don’t adore me. I need you to fear me, you moron. Give me your fear. Or something else. Any of the above will do, I think. Control would be nice. More cost-effective as well._ **

_Smacking his hands onto the floor by either side of Ren’s head in an effort to alarm him, Hux crouches, and slithers further down so that he can look at Ren more properly._

_“Do you mean to say I don’t frighten you, Kylo?”_

_Ren’s face darkens, and that’s what makes Hux realize he’s called Ren by his first name. He tries to conceal the error – make it seem like he was that informal on purpose. Ren nods at him, and pledges, “I have told you before, Hux, I trust you. Unequivocally.”_

_For some reason, those specific words make Hux remember a conversation from a cycle or so ago. Something about Ren asking what thrills Hux, and he’d asked about battle, and that hadn’t been it, and Hux thinks he has it figured out now. And for some reason, he hasn’t got any self-preservation left, so he just starts talking._

_“Do you know – do you remember when – that time you asked me if it is feeling unsafe that is exciting to me, but that isn’t it – you were wrong. That’s not it. It is the feeling of safety. That’s what excites me. You asked about adrenaline – you asked if I felt excited going into battle, but – battle? When I went into battle – that was a job, that was – I was removed. There was no guarantee that I would come back alive, and I didn’t particularly care about living, or dying on the ground like a dog. I didn’t care. I didn’t care – I had never been safe.”_

_Ren’s brow furrows with worry, and Hux nods, feeling like he’s been this little boy screaming bloody murder right out in the open air on a sunny day, begging for help from any corner of his family estate, begging to be heard, but no one can ever hear him – no matter how loud he screams. He’s been this trapped little boy, covered in blood, screaming at the top of his lungs, and no one has heard him until right now. Ren hears him. **Ren hears him**._

_“I had never been safe in my life at all. There was no person who I could rely on – there was no safety in people. Droids even reported ‘unsavory behavior,’ back to my father – I couldn’t, they weren’t – they wouldn’t protect me from him. And my home had my father, and my father is most unsafe of all, and when I left for the Academy, there was no safety – no one cared about anyone, and again, I could live or die, and who cared, right? Who cared?”_

_Hux feels his eyes watering._

**_Don’t you fucking cry, you ingrate. Don’t fucking cry. Ren cannot reduce you to that – no one can. Leon D’Jac happened to catch you off-guard that night, but you were young, and weak, and you have not cried since, and you won’t do it now. You will not cry. It’s fine that no one cared. For fuck’s sake, I don’t care about others – why should anyone have cared about me? The galaxy never owed me anything. _ **

_“When had any day of my life been any different? When had there – when had there been a day that I had not thought ‘today I might live or die,’ and not felt a thing? No one could protect me at the Academy, I was alone, and alone was safer than investing in others. And combat training…no one protected me. No one protected me.”_

_Hux remembers what his bruised knuckles looked like, how they turned white against that railing he gripped with the fury he wanted to kill D’Jac with. He remembers the rage, the degradation, the anguish, and how every nerve felt like it was on fire, like his lithe body was thin satin being torn at the seams – how blinding all the pain was._

_He remembers killing D’Jac. He remembers how it felt to impale D’Jac, he remembers how it felt to cut open D’Jac’s jugular. His hands and arms can still feel the impact of D’Jac’s body on his titanium, training staff, as if it were happening all over again. He can still feel the release of pressure once his dagger had done its work._

_“No one could. No one would. And the battles – I ran headlong into danger, but blasts and blades refused to find me, and I couldn’t… death and oblivion teased me with their relief by keeping just out of my grasp, no matter how careless I was…”_

_Hux stares down at Ren’s clavicle._

**_You’ve a strong body, Ren. I like the shadows your muscles make. You know, the other cycle when you were on my couch, I thought about touching your neck. I don’t think you’ll stop me if I do. And if you do, I’ll pretend not to remember. You better not be listening to my thoughts right now._ **

_Feeling floaty and unreal, Hux runs his hand up Ren’s chest experimentally, until his fingers start dancing over the flustered skin of Ren’s neck. It all feels like a strange dream._

**_I pretend like I can tell when you’re in or out of my head, but I can’t really. I can never actually tell. You're very stealthy. If you’re in here, you better tell me, asshole. I trust you, you know. Or… maybe you don’t know. I haven’t told you so, have I? You asked me to. At the beginning of all this madness – right after Starkiller, didn’t you? Didn’t you ask me to tell you once I knew what you were to me? I should tell you. I told you I would, and I’m a man of my word. One of passion, greatness, and action, too, apparently._ **

_“Then you. No one could protect me from you. Not even yourself,” Hux extrapolates, reverently – he means to say this as if to emphasize how much Ren has grown in the short time they’ve gotten to know one another, “But… then you made this effort – you had this desire to guard me, to serve me, and make me feel safe, and it was thrilling, and terrifying, and it was the first thing I had felt in so long…”_

_“Really?” Ren whispers, his voice sounding nearly stricken._

_“Really,” Hux answers, wanting Ren to believe him, wanting Ren to keep hearing him when no one else can or does, “I didn’t want to let you succeed, but you did. I felt safe in your presence. How you retaliated against my father – how could I ever… And when you – when you made the pond, and the moons, and the fucking grass, all because I… you didn’t just… you really, actually wanted for me to feel safe. You were the first person to ever want that for me… “_

_There are tears still brimming Hux’s eyes, and he’s straining to keep himself in control. He can feel his focus slipping, though. Slipping in that way only Ren can make it slip._

_“And, I do,” Hux continues, “When you’re near. I feel safe. And now, you nearly died for me… for me? What am I worth? Some medals of arbitrary value? A family name? But, there are these times – these absurd, nonsensical times that you – I think it, but you – then you make me feel like I am worth something. And I believe you. I believe you that no one can harm me if you are there.”_

_Hux lifts some of his weight up onto his elbows, bringing his hands to Ren’s face, thinking he should tell Ren how beautiful he is, how handsome he is, how unique he is, and how often he wants to touch that face, “I don’t want you to leave, Kylo. I am so tired of feeling unsafe. I am so tired. I don’t want you to leave.”_

_“Don’t say that.”_

**_Then give me your fear._ **

****

_Ren looks pained. His inner voice sounds pained too, when it reverberates through Hux’s head._

**_You know I don’t want to leave you._ **

****

_Steeling himself, Hux decides he’ll do something he swore he’d never do – not since he was fainting in the soft grass of his family’s estate with the ghost of his brother making him sick. Not since someone used their body as a weapon against his own, and he reached out blindly for some God he already knew wasn’t real._

_He’ll plead._

****

_“Of course I know, I know – you said, I know – you said, and I believe you, I believe you. Do you get it?” Hux asks – and it would seem hysterical if he weren’t murmuring it like he were in a dreamscape, “I believe you. I trust you, Kylo. It’s what you wanted – you have it. I trust you. Stay.”_

_“Stop.”_

_“I don’t want to,” Hux replies, his thumbs brushing over Ren’s cheeks, “You are always destroying my things – you stomp around in your great big boots, and your stupid helmet, and you just insert yourself into my life like – not even giving me a choice – just Hellbent on – and the Angels – I don’t want you to leave. Like everyone else. Like everything else. You’re not like that – you’re not like everyone and everything else. Don’t go.”_

_“Hux, please stop –"_

_“No,” Hux answers, bringing his face closer._

**_You aren’t like the rest, Ren. I wouldn’t feel this way if you were like the rest._ **

_“No. You don’t stop no matter what I say or do, and now, I don’t – now, I won’t stop. I won’t. I trust you.”_

**_One more, Ren. I’ll plead for you one more time. I’ll pray to you, instead of some uncaring, absent God – I’ll pray to you instead. Show me mercy, Ren. I know you can. I know you can be gentle. Remember Ben Solo’s bird – fix my wing. You hear me. Even when I don’t speak, you hear me. I’ve given you what you wanted – you wanted my trust, and now give me what I need. Ren. Kill Snoke if you have to – destroy the Order from the inside out, take and ruin everything in your path, just don’t fucking leave._ **

_“I trust you,” Hux repeats, wanting it to land like a killing blow, wanting it to hurt Ren as much as he wants it to keep Ren with him, “You make me feel safe, and like I might –" Hux hates admitting this, “like I might be worth something.”_

**_You make me think my father was wrong – I’m not a weed, and I can’t be torn up from the ground, because you’ll protect me. Please, stay. I don’t want to be alone in this again. I don’t think I can be._ **

_“I want you to stay.”_

**_Please._ **

_“Don’t leave.”_

**_ Please. _ **

_“It’s an order I can’t disobey, Hux – I… I can’t… I have to go,” Ren answers helplessly, clearly hurting._

_Hux blinks and, beyond his plainly human control, a single tear falls down his cheek and onto Ren’s. He sees the teardrop, and it feels like a death sentence. He feels it slide down his face for the first time in so many years, and it feels powerless, it feels raw, sincere, desperate, and it **feels**. It **feels** , and **that’s** the problem. The numbness is gone, all gone, and even the alcohol doesn’t help. Hux feels it all, filling up his lungs, and still leaving him gasping. He feels it all, and he’d rather be dead._

_“Fine.”_

**_It isn’t fine. I’ll kill you. Give me your fear, Ren. If I can’t have anything else, just give me this._ **

_“You know, I could kill you. I could kill you, and then you wouldn’t be able to leave.”_

_Ren smiles. Hux would hate him more for it, but he might be too tired to hate Ren now. Or too drunk. Or too… something else._

_Ren smiles that sad smile, and replies, “I hate saying this, Hux, but that isn’t the most strategically sound idea you’ve come up with.”_

**_You’re being an asshole._ **

_“Then I’ll just kill you for the sake of killing you.”_

_“Very well,” Ren answers mildly._

**_Don’t’ be a smart ass, I can and I will._ **

_“I will. You watch me. You fuckin’ watch me. Kylo. I’m a very serious and powerful man, Kylo. I could kill you if I wanted.”_

_“Yes, I’m sure you could, Hux.”_

**_Stay, Ren. Kylo. Stay._ **

_“I hate you.”_

**_I don’t mean that._ **

_“I know.”_

**_I think you get that I don’t mean that, and I’d call you out on that, but this has been an ordeal, and I’m tired. Too tired. Of everything. I hate you – you know I… you get it. You know I don’t hate you. You wouldn’t look so sad otherwise. I’m pathetic._ **

_Hux remembers resting his face on Ren’s chest, dropping his full weight carelessly and lazily, at a loss for what to do now that he can’t force Ren to adore him or even respect him, can’t control Ren, and can’t make Ren fear him. He remembers petting his hand over Ren’s firm chest, allowing his fingertips to brush ever-so slightly against Ren’s nipples. He’s considering licking one, but then Ren tells him he needs to get into bed and he considers biting one in retaliation, instead._

_Hux remembers being in bed, but not how he got there. Night terrors often come when he drinks too much, and he’s worried they’ll happen once Ren is gone. He really wants Ren to stay. He doesn’t have the brain capacity to vocalize that._

_He remembers opening his eyes blearily, and swearing he can see dark wings sprouting from Ren’s back. Angels aren’t real – they’re just products of folklore pilots created for the sake of poetry and sex. The dark shadows that decorate Hux’s walls, though, could convince him otherwise. The color and fullness of Ren’s lips, the way his hair shines and curtains his face, the glimmer of Ren’s impossibly deep, dark eyes, and the emotions they elicit from Hux might be enough to convince him otherwise._

_The way just Ren’s presence has stopped the tremor in his hands could convince him otherwise._

**_You look like a dark Angel._ **

_He thinks he might say that out loud, but he’s not sure. He might be asleep now. He has some sort of dream about drawing Ren or something. He dreams about threading his fingers through Ren’s dark hair, and it feels so real – that Ren picks him up, holds him like he might hold a lover. Hux shouldn’t like this fantasy, but he does. He likes it, and he’s really very tired of denying himself these things. If Dream Ren wants to hold him, sprout wings, and swear to protect him, and to stay, and to make him something even remotely deserving of his name – more power to him._

_He thinks he wishes Ren a goodnight, like a sleepy child. It’s embarrassing, but he’s too drunk to care. He thinks he hears Ren say it back, and then he sleeps deeply, but not for nearly long enough._

_Certainly not long enough to deal with showering, dressing for the work cycle, and walking out into the hall only to find Ren standing there like a stalker. He falls on his arse trying to scramble backward from him – he blames his lack of typical grace on his hangover, but there’s more than that._

_While Ren explains why he’s there again, Hux thinks to himself that he really ought to tell Ren the truth – the truth about why he doesn’t like being snuck up on._

_There are a few truths Ren might be owed these days._

_He tucks that concern to the back of his mind for later – if Ren is worrying over him already, he might invade Hux’s mind, and he doesn’t want Ren finding out anything before he’s ready to say it. He’s not sure he could survive the humiliation of that._

_He needs caf, and maybe some painkillers. Ren doesn’t even allow for that, though._

_Hux finds himself pushed up against the wall outside his quarters, and agreeing to let Ren touch the immensely sensitive skin of his stomach._

_Ren’s unpredictability spreads everywhere – not only is Ren, the man, chaotic, but just his presence eliminates all ability to forecast the cycle’s events. Hux thinks he’s starting another work cycle, hung over and a little ill with anxiety, but why would Ren ever allow for Hux to be in control of the day or predict what are supposed to be the mundane events of his work cycle? Hux would chide himself, think ‘I should be used to this by now,’ but there is no ‘getting used to,’ chaos, just as there is no controlling it. He’ll never get used to the Force, just as he can't control it; he’ll never get used to **Ren**._

_Hux is starting to make peace with that._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters 16-19 might be posted all at once. It will depend on a couple things, but they're in production and ready for editing, so hang in there - we are quickly approaching present-time again.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No trigger warnings for this chapter!
> 
> So, y'all may have noticed that some of the warnings and tags changed. This is because I thought this series would be just three parts, but it looks like it's gonna turn into four XD i seT UP TOO MANY SUBPLOTS THAT NEED CLOSURE
> 
> So, don't be alarmed by the change! Just as with all the other parts, I will post the very end of part three the same day as I post the very beginning of part four.

_At times, Ren’s healings can burn, or make matters worse for a brief time. The pain is always worth it, though, and Ren never lets the pain linger. Hux feels younger, and spryer, than he’s an appropriate age to feel afterward._

_“You keep looking at me like I might hurt you.”_

_Ren’s voice snaps Hux out of his musings – there is no use in telling Ren he’s already hurt him. Ren didn’t mean to hurt him, and Ren wouldn’t know what to do about it if he did know, anyway. Hux is a wonderful liar, and knows it too, so he crosses his arms, and recounts an old excuse, “we’ve been over this. Traps. I’m inclined to believe this is a trap.”_

_“What will convince you otherwise?”_

**_You don’t need to convince me otherwise, you dolt._ **

_Rolling his eyes, Hux answers, “who knows, maybe I’d be less convinced this were a trap if you weren’t asking to touch my body where all my most vital organs are, Ren.”_

_“I am your protector, and healer. You said so yourself,” Ren says._

_Hux rolls his eyes again, feeling his face get hot - how can someone with psychic inclinations be so obtuse? It's then Hux vaguely recalls crying in front of Ren - just a few hours ago - before falling asleep like an infant. He really should stop drinking._

 

_He remembers how Angelic Ren looked above him, how vivid his dream of Ren holding him was, before it all went blank – apparently Ren’s doing, as well. He’s too worried to ask if Ren happened to see what he was dreaming of before blocking anymore dreams from forming. He's worried the answer will be "yes," and he too, is worried, that the answer will remain, "no."_

_“You were relieved – when you found me on Starkiller, and you were relieved again when I came to you safely at the gala,” Ren continues, “If my trap is meant to make you care about something other than yourself, then you’ve already fallen into it. You should see by now that I am uninterested in lying to you, and even arguing with you has lost its appeal.”_

**_But what does that mean? Do you respect me? Can I have any piece of you? I don’t know how to operate without some degree of control, Ren. You make this all so impossible._ **

_Hux looks down at his boots, trying hard not to broadcast his thoughts, and then he looks back up to where Ren’s eyes would show, were his mask off._

**_And to kill you would be to kill myself_** _, Ren sends him._

_Hux’s heart skips a beat._

_It sounds like something Ren would put in his wedding vows – it’s powerful, dramatic even – it’s macabre, it’s somber, but it’s dark enough, self-pitying enough, that Hux finds he can trust it. It’s painful enough to think of, Hux considers it romantic._

_He remembers how Officar Gillash mentioned that it is unnatural to see either one of them without the other by their side – he wonders if, while he wasn’t looking, Ren somehow bound himself to the very idea of Hux. That to think of Hux, is to think of Ren, that looking for Ren means looking for Hux – he wishes Ren would tell him more than just dramatized, cryptic messages. Or at least take his mask off, so Hux might be able to gauge what he’s really thinking, or feeling._

_“What the Hells does that mean?” Hux asks without any heat – he feels faint at Ren’s words, which is absurd – he usually hates shows of emotion so overdone, and theatrical. He doesn’t hate this, though. He must be hallucinating. Or too hung over. Or drunk still, maybe._

**_That you set the trap first, and killing you would destroy me._ **

_“ **Destroy** you?” Hux laughs coldly, disbelievingly – he’s never heard something so illogical before._

_“Destroy me,” Ren repeats in all seriousness._

_Hearing something so outlandish, unimaginable, and hearing it from **Ren** , about **him** … he’s suspicious of it. It seems like something too good to be true, and those things, too good to be true, often are. Hux wants it to be true, though. He wants Ren to mean it. He wants that power over Ren._

_And, not literally – he doesn’t want to imagine dying in battle, or something, and Ren killing himself over it like some melodramatic child with so little perspective they can see no other reason to live. No – what Hux wants when Ren says that to kill Hux would “destroy,” him is for Ren to mean that he would no longer be the man he is without Hux._

_That without Hux, everything Ren is, has been, could be, and will be – every greatness he is destined for, has potential to accomplish, and has bragged about from the moment they met, every ambition, every quirk, every thought of soul mates, and spirits, every glimmer of hope, and base human desire that Ren is composed of – it would all be decimated in the wake of losing Hux._

_The human body of Kylo Ren would remain in tact, but it would be a burnt out husk, just a charred, empty shell left over from the fire Hux’s departure would spark._

_He wants to be Ren’s irreplaceable dead._

_He can’t bring himself to say that out loud._

_“If you never trust me completely, I will understand it. I will hate it, but I will understand it. If you let me touch you, Hux, I’ll ask for you to disrobe enough for me to see the skin of your stomach, and waist. I’ll spread my palms over your skin, and branch myself out from there. I will take your pain away.”_

**_Those words again…_ ** _Hux thinks, wanting to kill Ren, sink into the floor and disappear, wanting to feel some pain to confirm he’s still there, wanting to kill D’Jac again **just in case** – those words, that prayer, that sad, desperate prayer had gone unanswered. The night Hux needed a God most, more than all other nights of his life, if there ever were one, it ignored him. _

_Ren doesn’t ignore him, though._

_Ren seeks him out, Ren stops the pain, Ren **hears** him, Ren pledges his allegiances, his loyalties, and he can be a mess of a man, but he **tries**. _

_And that’s more than any God has ever done for Hux._

**_Perhaps you are an Angel, Ren._ **

_That is an enormously dangerous thought that Hux inwardly slaps himself for having._

_Once Ren has his hands splayed across the skin of his stomach, he watches Ren’s chest falling, and rising. Besides his chest being attractively strong, it keeps to this perfect rhythm. When Ren’s not acting out, he seems eerily collected. Hux wonders if that is the impression he leaves on his own Officers and underlings, or if his own composure is different than Ren’s, somehow._

_He lets Ren heal him, seethes when it burns, but he knows Ren will take the pain away – he might be the one to inflict it, but he’ll take it away too._

_Hux isn’t sure what end of that cycle Ren is on, currently. Does he bring alleviation to pre-existing pain, and happen to make a mess of things along the way, sometimes? Or does he make a mess, inflict pain, and then draw it away? Hux can’t really tell, and he really doesn’t care at this point. He’s a smart enough man to know when he’s in too deep, and he’s been in too deep longer than he cares to admit._

**_Are you alright?_ **

****

**_Yes, fine – that hurt a bit. What was that?_ **

****

**_Just acid. It will rid you of your body aches._ **

****

**_Definitely not killing me, then?_ **

****

**_No, not killing you._ **

****

**_Thank you._ **

****

**_It’s always an honor to heal you, Hux._ **

_Ren starts saying something about getting him protein, and water, and it’s so much like Phasma, Hux likes it about as much as he hates it. Ren isn’t the same as Phasma – when he starts to worry after Hux like Phasma does, it confuses him. It makes Hux want more from Ren too, and Hux isn’t supposed to want after things. Or people._

_He makes a quick decision to cover his tracks for the sleep cycle before._

_“Did you take me back to my quarters last cycle?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“Did I…” Hux trails off, looking for the right words that won’t technically be considered a lie, but still keep his cover, all while staring at Ren’s chest like it has the answer, “…I don’t remember much after having bandaged you, frankly. And I…”_

_Hux feels his hands start to shake a little again. He clenches his fists to keep the tremors from worsening._

 

_Ren prompts him patiently, “…you?”_

_“I’m sorry.”_

_This statement seems to catch Ren off-guard._

_“…for what?”_

_“For what I said,” Hux continues, thinking he owes this to Ren for some reason, “I said some things in anger. Whether they have some degree of merit to them is irrelevant. I was out of line. You had just saved my life and I acted like a child. I understand that you have to leave. I shouldn’t have… I just, I understand. And I’m sorry for how I reacted.”_

_Hux gives a heavy sigh, and expounds, “all this time you have been trying to get back to training, and I have been… selfish.”_

_That last bit is hard to admit to, so Hux looks away from Ren entirely, starts pulling down his shirts, and clearing his voice before finishing, “once you decided to actually prove you were **useful** to some degree, I suppose I felt some sort of misguided, maladaptive sense of ownership, or something… you wanted to be congratulated on being reunited with Supreme Leader Snoke, and the other Knights of Ren, and rather than support you, I acted out like a brat. And for that, I apologize.”_

_Ren doesn’t answer for a long few beats. Hux is worried Ren is going to ask about the things he drunkenly said, and did – things that were too honest, and will show on his skin as bright red if asked after. Thankfully without further question, Ren eventually answers, “consider it forgiven and forgotten.”_

**_Back to business, then_** _, Hux thinks, looking forward to the distraction of work, and maybe getting some time with Phasma – she is a good sounding board, always has been, and if he can come up with a less obvious hypothetical than he gave Haas, he might be able to fool her into giving him advice._

_He pulls up the schedule for the day, sees the Commandant is demanding audience with him again, and he nearly sneers at the inbox, but he’s too tired to express his resentment. He’s asking what Ren would like to do with his last cycles aboard **Aurora** , and then – _

_“Take the next three cycles off.”_

_Hux nearly stumbles, spinning to face Ren so fast. He’s positive he’s heard Ren wrong._

_“What?”_

_“I want you to take the next three cycles off.”_

_No one has ever asked this of Hux before. He can recall a single, solitary work cycle at the Academy that Phasma talked him into skipping a class with her – they didn’t even do anything exciting. They just hid in their dormitory, and watched some horrible holo-drama Phasma had illegally downloaded onto her pad. It was perfect._

_Besides Phasma, no one has ever wanted to spend time with Hux, though – Ren pledging allegiance to him is one thing, but to ask for personal time with him… it reminds Hux of all the rejection he faced when he first arrived at the Academy. Because he is so much more familiar with rejection, Hux is worried that he’s somehow misunderstanding what Ren is asking him for, though the question is really rather straightforward._

_He asks for clarification’s sake, anyway._

_“…take off the next three cycles?” Hux asks again._

_“I despise sharing your time with others,” Ren says, like it’s the simplest admission he’s ever made – he just plows through it, demanding more than asking, “Take off the next three cycles, and don’t leave my side. Give me your undivided attention. Three cycles. That’s what I want.”_

_Hux’s face is warm, and he feels like his eyebrows might be doing something they’ve never done before. He must look ridiculous, but it’s as if Ren is speaking another language - he can't be blamed for reacting the way he is._

_Ren seems to understand that Hux is having a difficult time conceptualizing that someone wants to spend time with him while he’s off the clock in a friendly, recreational way._

_“I want to meditate with you,” Ren starts, “I want to spar. I want to expand our Illusion. I would certainly like to spend time with Nali, and I’d like to take care of you as well as I can for the remainder of my time here. The ship can survive three cycles without your watchful eye.”_

**_That sounds… really lovely_** _, Hux thinks to himself._

_He tries to act aloof, and asks sarcastically, “… assuming taking **three** cycles off, as a **General** of the **First Order** , **wouldn’t** result in absolute chaos and panic, would you be available to use your Force powers for some mean-spirited pranks?”_

_Ren comes to a halt so suddenly, it’s almost comical, but Hux keeps moving forward, hiding his smile with distance._

_“So long as I can spend some time harassing Haas, I think that arrangement might work nicely,” Ren tells him._

_Hux smirks, feeling ticklish in his lightness of heart. He looks down at his holopad again, and wonders aloud, “to think that poor boy has no idea he lives in a lion’s den while you’re up and about **Aurora**.”_

_“Oh, he knows,” Ren mutters darkly, “and besides – I promised you I wouldn’t kill him until you gave me permission to.”_

_Hux shakes his head, brushing away some hair from his forehead, and sighing out, “I’d just like to say that this entire – whatever the Hells it is we have here – is fucking bizarre.”_

_In response, Ren sends him, **you’ve loved every minute of it. Even when you were terrified.**_

_Hux’s heart slides down into his stomach._

 

_The truth really does hurt._

**_Yes. I did._ **

_That this 'thing,' has a predestined end date is not a reminder Hux appreciates. He feels like he’s already in mourning. He tries to shake it off, and redirects attention._

_“Three cycles…” Hux begins disbelievingly, grabbing Ren’s attention, “Haven’t asked for a day off in all my years of service. Even when I was struck with Idolian fever; took me five standard months of intensive treatment to recover, and I was still at my post, working fifteen hour work cycles, and now I’m about to go ask for three entire cycles off, because a mad man with some type of fire sword wants to meditate with me in the name of sentimentality.”_

_“It’s not fire,” Ren corrects, smile weak, but growing back, “I could teach you about my lightsaber – about how they work, if you want.”_

_He’s taught Ren plenty – seeing as Ren, through no fault of his own, missed a lot of basic information, not finishing primary school; but Hux is genuinely excited at the thought of being taught on a subject he truly knows nothing about. That doesn't happen often._

_He would like to know how lightsabers work. And he wants Ren to be the one to teach him._

_“I’d like that, Ren.”_

_Ren doesn’t disappoint – and when they are interrupted, Ren sends Mitaka away like a bully denying some peon access to a lunch table. Hux knows it will get him in trouble with Phasma, but he can’t bring himself to care._

_He imagines being small again – being that little one who ran out barefoot in the grass, and dutifully memorized the shape, look, and movement of birds just so he could practice them over, and over again on paper. He imagines Ren visiting him there, in the Way Back When; he imagines Ren being that invisible friend who could talk to him only telepathically, and he imagines Ren would conjure illusions of birds for him, so he wouldn’t have to strain himself, memorizing them._

_He wonders how different a man he might be now, if had encountered Ren earlier in life. He wonders if he would be weaker, or stronger for it. He wonders if he would want the same things as he does today._

_Hux doesn’t mean to bring up linguistics, and names, but it comes out, anyway. Ren doesn’t ask him for his name, though – he just assures Hux that he wouldn’t use it as a weapon if Hux ever deigns to tell him it. Ren says that he only wants to know it to feel closer to Hux._

_Hux feels his neck, and face heat up again, and there’s a split second that he nearly says it out loud. His lips shake, and he very nearly says, ‘Ari,’ but he stops himself in time._

_He stops himself, shakes it off, and gets back to talking about lightsabers._

_His name is for the person he falls in love with – a person who doesn’t exist, a love that is fleeting as all human emotions._

 

_True, lasting love is a golden thing – not meant for many, certainly not meant for him. Maybe, it never was._

_He’ll die General Hux, with questions that go unanswered, and a first name that goes unknown. He’ll make peace with that, not because it’s easy, but because there is nothing else to be done._

_Eventually, Phasma comes looking for him, her temper spiked._

_“Hux.”_

_“Phasma.”_

_She crosses her arms over her armored chest, and scowls at him, “mind telling me what the Hells you think you’re doing?”_

_“I am taking some due time off,” Hux replies, trying to sound composed about it, but realizing the absurdity of his own words._

_Phasma is, predictably, unimpressed._

_“Three entire cycles? Have you gone mad?”_

_Hux opens his mouth to respond, but Phasma interrupts him before he can say anything to that._

_She gestures toward the closed door Ren is behind, and asks, “is he… has he done something to your mind?”_

_“What?” Hux asks, “No – don’t be ridiculous. Ren has spent more time, and energy, towards curing me of ailments, and anxieties than any living person has dared to try. He used himself as a human shield for me at the gala, Phasma. Haven’t you noticed his calm? He hardly throws tantrums anymore – he seems bored with the idea of ruining my day, much less my mind. He has asked me for three cycles, and, so, three cycles he will have.”_

_“Three – General, I understand that you’ve come to…”_

**_Careful,_** **_Ziare_ ** _, Hux silently warns, with a carefully placed glare._

_Phasma stiffens, her brow cocking a little – whatever she was about to say, she wisely rethinks it. They have a silent exchange of facial expression for a while, all of Hux’s are cagey, and expectant. Phasma is slow, and deliberate in how she speaks next._

_“…to recognize Kylo Ren as an ally, but this is – you are what keeps this ship, and fleet running. In losing Starkiller, the fleet needs your presence now more than ever. Three cycles is too much.”_

_“The fleet can survive three cycles without my watchful eye, Phasma – besides, you are more than competent enough to work in my stead.”_

_There is a pause. He knows Phasma will give up – they have argued enough times in the past for her to know when he won’t be moved. Thinking of himself as an immovable statue, he’s reminded of the Angels on Naalol. He wonders if they are carved there, or if they are made somewhere else, and delivered to Naalol._

**_What kind of artist creates pieces they intend to go unseen?_ ** _Hux wonders._

_“What am I supposed to tell the Commandant?”_

_Hux is broken from his reverie, and rolls his eyes, gesticulating vaguely, “oh, can’t you just tell him I died at the gala or something?”_

_“Hux,” Phasma sighs long-sufferingly, before looking at him very seriously, “… are you going to be alright when he leaves?”_

_“Why wouldn’t I be?”_

_The pause she takes captures her no-nonsense attitude remarkably well. Hux looks away from her, remembering the hypothetical he gave Haas, wondering if he could run it by Phasma without her telling him he’s out of his fucking mind. Which he already knows he is._

_“I owe you everything that I am, Hux. We have known each other too long for this sort of nonsense. What happened at combat training – if I had been just ten minutes late –"_

_“I know,” Hux interrupts – worried Ren might hear it from the other room, hating to think about it. Hating that he’s been thinking about it so often these days, “That’s not… I know. I understand your concerns. They are unnecessary. I don’t have any desire to dismiss you – you know I take your concerns very seriously. And I couldn’t – even if I wanted to. It’s as you said; the First Order needs me now more than ever.”_

_Phasma looks at him pitifully, her brows drawn in, and her mouth downturned. She tells him gently, “there is more than that, you know.”_

_‘There is more to live for,’ is what Phasma means, and Hux knows that._

_“Yes, I do know,” Hux answers, swallowing hard, and anxiously adding, “And it’s in the other room waiting for me. So, are we done here?”_

_Eyes widening with incredulity, Phasma glances between Hux and the door._

_There is no hypothetical needed. She sees what’s going on._

_She gives him a wary look, and he nods, to tell her, ‘yes, I know, but it’s too late.’_

_She says softly to him, “tread carefully, Hux. Those are dangerous waters.”_

_“I’m all too aware of that,” he tells her solemnly, “You know I wouldn’t **choose** this.”_

_“Who knows – you’ve always been a sort of masochist,” she says, friendly and only half-joking, “I used to be envious of people with sexual and romantic attractions, you know, but the older I’ve grown, the more I’ve seen how needless a distraction they are and how, even when they are reciprocated or enjoyable, there is still pain to be shared.”_

_“Hmm,” Hux hums, rubbing the back of his neck briefly, then letting his arm fall, “Well, if Ren and I have ever had anything to give the galaxy, it’s pain. We at least have that in common.”_

_She plants a gentle hand on his shoulder, and assures him, “whatever you need, and whenever you need it, I will be there. Do not hesitate to come to my quarters. And I’ll warn you now that as soon as he’s off this ship, you won’t be out of my sight for more than the time it requires for you to take a piss, you got it?”_

_He gives her a weak smile, puts his hand over hers, and nods his agreement. Once they part ways, Hux takes a moment to gather himself before reentering the room, and rejoining Ren. That’s when Ren starts talking about **his** lightsaber – the vision he had when he was young, and Hux tells Ren about his droid in exchange, and when Ren asks him if Brendol died painfully, Hux buries every shame he’s ever felt about it to answer as certainly and painlessly as possible, “yes. He did.”_

_Thankfully, Ren works on lifting their spirits after that. Pulling pranks on his subordinates is something Hux has thought of many times before, but he’s claimed too many times to be ‘above,’ such immaturity. He’s off-duty now, though, and Ren is leaving, and he really just wants some happiness. Even if he's above that, even if it's immature. Even if it’s fleeting._

_The good mood is very nearly ruined by Ren’s nonsense about love-making and sex, though. How is Hux supposed to explain this meaningless shit to a virgin who claims to have never been attracted to anyone? And then Ren has the **gall** to tell him Hux ought to have left him on Starkiller to die, the dramatic prick._

_All of Hux’s blood runs cold._

_“What?”_

_Hurriedly, Ren mutters, “never mind – I should –"_

_Ren is turning away, truly about to dismiss such an insult, and Hux won’t stand for it. He grabs Ren’s arm without thinking, and twists him around._

_“The Hells did you just say to me?”_

_“I didn’t **say** anything.”_

_Hux scowls, hoping his face is accurately communicating just how much danger Ren is putting himself in by insulting him like this. That joke was in poor taste the first time and now, it just hurts. He doesn’t understand why Ren is coming after him all of a sudden, like an enemy. He doesn’t understand Ren **at all**._

_“How could you – how could you fucking say that to me!? What? You think all of your Force magic spiritual bullshit can’t be disproven with hard, cold science? You think all these moronic, romantic notions you pray, and meditate over have nothing to do with basic, neurological chemicals? You think – you think I’m some common idiot that will allow for you to spit in the face of my sacrifice?”_

_“What exactly did you sacrifice?”_

_Hux lets go of Ren’s arm, and takes a step backward, sirens in his head starting to blare. Phasma would have killed Ren for saying that, but here Hux stands, useless, and gaping – what has Hux sacrificed? What has he_ **sacrificed** _?_

_He sacrificed his freedom to watch birds, he sacrificed his droid, his mother, his brother, his wishes for companionship, for love, respect, or happiness. He sacrificed his physical being to the Academy, he sacrificed all of his potential, all he is made of, or could be molded into, to the First Order, and he very nearly sacrificed his life for Ren – something the oaf_ **used** _to be grateful for. So, what exactly has Hux sacrificed? He doesn’t think he’s being dramatic in thinking_ **everything** _. He has sacrificed_ **everything** _to be standing before Ren this day, as he is now._

_“I can’t believe you’d say something like that to me.”_

_“Really?” Ren asks, egging him on, “You **can’t** believe I’d say something like that? That’s **unbelievable** to you?”_

**_Fuck you._ **

_“You’re a trap.”_

_Hux thinks he should have listened to Phasma, and run in the opposite direction – he shouldn’t be in this deep, he shouldn’t be taking this lightly, and even if he wants something, he should surrender it. He was born Aurelien Roane Hux, and all that meant was that he would go without, and he would learn to like it. That’s what the galaxy has always had planned for him, so he should have known better than to pursue this madness._

_He can’t keep Ren like he can keep Millicent. He can’t even **figuratively** keep Ren, nevermind the literal. He can’t seem to keep Ren on the same page as him for more than a few minutes, he can't imagine what it would take to keep Ren by his side for a lifetime. Ren violently bounces between idealization and devaluation faster than Hux can blink, and to some rhythm Hux can’t follow. _

_Ren looks like Hux has somehow hurt him worse than he has hurt Hux, but Hux doesn’t think that’s possible. Hux isn’t even being intentionally malicious – he’s just stating what he’s known to be true since the moment they met._

_“No. No – I’m not –"_

_“You are,” Hux interrupts, pointing an accusing finger, “You are the most unbalanced, erratic, maddening man I’ve ever crossed paths with, and, believe me, that is **really** saying something. But you present yourself to me like a rose hiding all it’s thorns, until I just try to make any sort of contact, and then you **turn** on me.”_

_Hux has never voiced concerns like this before – he’s never cared enough to communicate with someone like this before. He’s never truly wanted to establish some line of communication where he could openly say he’s been hurt – where he would openly admit to something like that – he’s never wanted it before. But he wants Ren to know. Ren hears him when no one else does, so let Ren hear this._

_“I took three damn cycles off for you – because you **asked** me, Ren. You **asked** for my time, my attention, and when I give it to you? You thank me by letting me know you’d rather be a burnt corpse on a broken mass weapon than be here with me because I’ve **what**? Insulted your **delicate sensibilities**?”_

_Ren doesn’t open his mouth to defend himself, and that’s probably for the best. Hux holds his forehead between his thumb and forefinger, massaging a growing headache. He sighs, and says, “this is exhausting. I can’t… whatever game this is – I don’t… I’m smarter than this.”_

_Hux lets go of his head, and looks off and away, reciting his stats, as if to remind himself of his own worth, “I’m better than this – two battles lost out of fifty-seven lead by me. Strategy, forecasting, and protecting myself, and others – this has always been my only strength. And sharpened to a fine point, it makes for a phenomenal weapon, but then **you** come in like a fucking **cyclone** , and blow it all to shit.”_

_“Is that why you don’t care about what happens to your body?”_

_Hux’s head snaps toward him again, and he finds Ren’s eyes open and expressive, his cheeks flushed, and his brows knit with concern._

_“What?”_

_“You think you are a weapon? Only good for some one thing?” Ren asks, “If you believe that – it’s untrue. That’s… that’s all. If you sleep with Krin for the funding… then, yes – you’ve done crueler things, played at higher risks. But you play the game of war like a game of chess, and when you lose pawns, and rooks, and knights –"_

**_No, I don’t want to lose you_** _, Hux thinks like a punch to the ribs. His heart skips a beat. He hates this feeling. He hates whatever it is that pulls him into Ren’s gravitation as much as it pushes him away. He doesn’t understand it, it's unfamiliar to him, and he can’t control it, so he hates it._

_The thought of losing Ren like a stormtrooper, or an Officer, is unthinkable._

_The thought of losing Ren like a pawn or a rook – its too agonizing a thought to endure._

_“ – that’s okay. That’s what they are there for. They signed their lives away to you – to your command. They should be glad they have the honor of dying while having served you at all. But you are no pawn, or rook, or knight – you deserve something finer. Something softer. For once. Don’t you agree with me?”_

_Lips parted, face slack, shoulders tense, and his heart beating faster than it should be, Hux is unable to answer. Ren uses words to cut into him, then uses them again like a calming salve._

_“You wanted people, as a child – you were kept from them. Once you were introduced to people, and made attachments, you found only violence, cruelty, and a different form of isolation altogether. And there was a day – some day passed that you thought you’d rather slip into oblivion, without purpose or consciousness, than continue on in the life you were leading. Your mind is so sharp – so deadly, and I… I so admire you for it. You are worthy of more, Hux. You are more than a bargaining chip. And it pains me that you cannot see yourself… that you…”_

_Hux wants to know how that thought will conclude – he keeps imagining Ren dying in some unremarkable way, how asymmetrical it would make the events of the galaxy, how pained, how empty he would be if that happened…_

_“…that you cannot see yourself through my eyes.”_

_It’s at this very moment Hux realizes Ren is **his** irreplaceable dead._

_They gaze at one another for a long few beats._

 

_Hux is scared to open his mouth – scared of what might come out._

**_I want to know what you see_** _, Hux thinks, **tell me. Tell me what you see when you look at me… I want to know…**_

_“I –"_

_Then Haas is there, demanding attention like a hungry child, and Hux looks down at him from the bridge. He calculates the distance to the ground, knows he’ll probably die on impact if he hits it from this height, but Ren won’t let him. Ren sees something worth saving in him. Ren sees something deserving of contentment, softness – something worthy of his name._

****

**_To live in this world, you must be able to do just three things; to love what is mortal, to hold it, and when the time comes to let it go – to let it go._ **

_With his mother’s words ringing in his head like a bell, he looks back at Ren, and as he jumps, he makes a deal with himself – if he dies, all is well, and he won’t mind it. He’ll die, and the questions will go unanswered, his name will go unknown, and he won’t have to deal with the fallout. He’ll be nothing, and that will be a relief._

_But if Ren saves him in time – and he is positive Ren will – then he will try._

_He will try to be worthy of his name. He will try to be someone his mother might have been proud of. Someone truly worthy of being handled with care._

_He will dig deep into himself, try to find if there really is anything golden there to be found, and if there is, he’ll give it to Ren._

_And that, he hopes, might make him just a little less of the monster he has come to know himself as. Maybe, if he can find it, if he can give something genuine, and real, to Ren, someone long denied anything real or sincere, Ren will find some peace as well._

_Of course, he’s grateful when Ren catches him, despite having foreseen the events happening precisely as they did. Being saved by Ren, though, means destroying the monster he is, and that won’t be easy work. So, he asks to punch Ren in the face, and Ren agrees to it. Maybe he knows what Hux is going through. Or maybe he’s just as lost as Hux is, and is just willing to endure whatever Hux dishes out._

_When they spar, Hux gets the satisfaction of punching Ren, but he also makes a point to tell Ren how handsome he is when he’s pulling his hair back. That’s honesty, isn’t it? To speak one’s mind? And when Ren is pulling his hair back, his upper-arms flexing, the veins in his forearms and wrists moving with the shine of a thin layer of sweat, that’s what Hux is thinking._

_That Ren is very handsome._

_If he wants to be worthy of his name, if he wants peace, if he wants this last chance at just a glimpse of happiness before returning to the unkind life he has built and known – he thinks this is the way to get it._

_When Ren jokes with him, he jokes back, and when Ren doesn’t believe Hux about his eyes being beautiful, Hux makes a point to prove it to him. He usually doesn’t care for people being so close to him, but Ren has been ignoring his personal space for as long as he can remember, so he ignores Ren’s want for any._

_He explains to Ren exactly why his eyes are beautiful, in the hopes that explaining it like an equation might make Ren believe him. Ren deflects with a joke, and Hux laughs openly at it – he’s letting go, he wants Ren to hear him, he wants Ren to see him, and he doesn’t want Ren to leave._

_He can’t control that last part, but he thinks he can find a way to get the rest._

_Tickling Ren to make him laugh is more than a great victory for control over Ren (Hux hates that he’s reached this point of desperation for control over the man, but here he is), it’s impulsive, it’s childish, it’s fun, and it’s what Hux **wants** to do. In that moment, he forgets himself – the man he is, the fate he’s been dealt, the heavy burden of the Hosnian system weighing on his back like cinderblocks. He can forget himself, and get lost in the sound of Ren’s laughter, and the sensation of his hands on Ren’s body._

_He **likes** having his hands on Ren, and he likes hearing Ren lose his breath laughing, he likes seeing Ren’s smile, likes seeing how flustered he gets trying to knock Hux loose like Hux isn’t the most competent ground-fighter Ren has ever encountered. _

_“Another victory under the strict, tireless regime of General Hux!” Hux shouts mockingly over Ren’s deep, hysterical laughter, “When all seemed lost, General Hux in all his glory, arrived at the eleventh hour, ripping the victory from enemy hands! Oh, if only the galaxy knew the feared Lord Kylo Ren, messianic Force user, and fearless leader of the Knights of Ren has a ticklish tummy!”_

_“Hux!” Ren manages to yell in an octave higher than what is normal for him, “Hux! You bastard! Stop it!”_

_Hux watches the apple of Ren’s throat bobbing with his laughter, and wants to lick it. He doesn’t indulge that urge._

_“Tell me I’ve won!”_

**_Tell me I have control._ **

_“You’ve won!” Ren replies immediately_

_“Tell me I’ve conquered the great Lord Kylo Ren!”_

**_Tell me you’ll stay._ **

_“You’ve conquered me! I surrender! I surrender!”_

_When Hux shows Ren mercy, and stops torturing him, Ren looks up at him breathlessly, and he seems taken for a few moments. Hux wonders if Ren has ever looked at him like that before – if Ren has looked at him like he tends to look at Ren when Ren is the one not looking._

_He can feel his own heart pounding hard and fast – he’s letting it beat that way on purpose. He’s allowing his joy to show. He wants Ren to feel it, to hear it, to see it – he wants Ren to understand without him saying anything._

_Ren’s hands trail up his forearms, and Hux leans in closer, thinking that maybe Ren wants to tell him a secret. It’s all very intimate, and Phasma would have a conniption if she knew how vulnerable Hux was making himself, but he doesn’t care._

_“I made you laugh,” Hux states proudly, smiling honestly._

_“There was a lot of blood rushing in my head,” Ren says, trying to catch his breath, “I couldn’t hear it well. Was it unpleasant?”_

_“As strangely beautiful as the rest of you, I’m afraid.”_

_Ren takes a moment of pause and then says, completely unprompted, “I had a dream about your eyes.”_

_“What?” Hux asks, unsure if he’s heard Ren correctly._

_“The day I first shadowed you – I woke from a dream and I couldn’t understand what I was seeing at first…”_

_Hux tilts his head to the side just a little, allowing his curiosity to show. He is unused to showing his emotions so plainly – it’s freeing, to express himself. He’s growing more careless by the minute._

_“I saw a white pulsar, surrounded by electromagnetic radiation, glowing blue and white. I saw comets burning blue too. I saw molecular clouds of all shades and hues of blue. I saw black matter halos, I saw ice, and diamonds, and quasars, and I couldn’t understand why I was seeing these things…”_

_Ren lifts his right hand and gently brushes Hux’s cheek and continues, “then, half-awake, I thought, ‘of course,’ – of course, it is all that I see when I look into your eyes.”_

**_General Hux’s eyes_** _, Ren sends to Hux, **setting the galaxy alight with silvers and whites and blues, alien and terrific in their beauty. Your eyes, giving life and time to the galaxy. You had just saved my life and I was dreaming of you. I just couldn’t understand I was dreaming of you until all those colors came together and I thought I had seen it like a familiar painting or a song from long ago that I once knew all the words to.**_

_“They provoke so much feeling,” Ren adds aloud, taking his hand back and letting it rest against his chest, “So, forgive me when I say that it is difficult for me to hear you tell me that my eyes are lovely. It would be a difficult compliment to accept no matter what, but from you? From you, it seems unreal.”_

**_Is that what you see when you look at me? Is that what I am through your eyes? Powerful enough to light and give time to the galaxy? Are you thinking of me as I’m thinking of you? Do you… feel what I feel?_ **

_Ren’s voice doesn’t respond in his head, so he figures Ren isn’t there. He remembers his intoxicated dream of drawing Ren, and thinks that might be the right branch to extend now._

_Hux asks lowly, “in the hypothetical event that I’d been so taken with your eyes that I had drawn them… countless times… do you think, hypothetically, seeing a portrayal of them might allow you to trust me when I tell you these things?”_

_“You said you’ve never drawn me.”_

_“That’s why this is a hypothetical.”_

_It’s funny – the way they look at each other, and both of them know that the other can tell that they both know it’s a lie. It’s all part of their game. The game that only the two of them can understand or play._

_Ren’s smile turns into a gentle laugh, and Hux is deeply pleased by the sound of it._

_“Yes, I suppose it might. Hypothetically, that is.”_

_Hux is about to ask Ren another ‘hypothetical’ question when Officer Vitaan walks in. Hux would usually be more concerned with keeping up appearances, but Ren is there, and Ren cares deeply about Officer Vitaan for whatever reason, so Hux assumes the same responsibility for her._

**_In Ren’s absence, he will want for me to look after her_** _, Hux is sure, **Ren is important to me, and so, what is important to him is the same to me.**_

_Rather than being concerned with sparring, though, Officer Vitaan looks absolutely overcome with dread at the thought of dancing with Officer Gillash. Hux can’t help but laugh at how distraught she is – which seems to throw her off. He tries to gather himself, get some degree of professionalism back to his posture, and he and Ren demonstrate the cross waltz for her a few times._

_She starts in on something about soul mates, and he’s always taken pleasure in disproving others’ romantic, fictional notions, which he gladly does, but when he starts dancing with Nali to help her practice, he gives himself more time to consider it._

_It’s nonsense, he knows it is, but it is an interesting fiction to entertain._

_He likes that Nali looks at Ren and he, and deems them soul mates._

_He’d sooner shove an ice pick in his ear than admit to that out loud, but he does like it, and when the evening is coming to a close, and Nali has left them for rest, Ren promises that if they **were** soul mates, he would always find Hux._

_Hux tells him the truth; that he believes it._

_While on their way back to his quarters, Hux gets distracted with the promise of sugar, starts celebrating, trying to remember the last time he snuck something sugary from under Phasma’s strict nose. He gets so distracted, he unintentionally lets slip the word “friendship,” in describing his relationship to Ren._

_It’s words like these he has been intentionally avoiding for many, many cycles. Really, ever since Ren asked him to explain what Ren is to him, he’s been denying Ren a clear definition. Now, it’s unavoidable, though._

_Ren wants him to repeat it._

_Hux makes an aggravated noise, tilts his head back with eyes shut, then sets it determinedly forward again, fighting off the embarrassment. He wants to be worthy of his name – he wants to be for Ren what Ren has become for him. He doesn’t know if that’s possible._

_He may never see Ren again, though. He’s not predicted to return to **Aurora**. So, Hux opens his mouth, and says, “I consider you my friend, Ren.”_

_Ren wraps their hands together, and Hux’s heart hurts for how hard it’s working._

_“No six words have ever made me happier,” Ren says._

_Hux rolls his eyes, ready to tell Ren that sarcasm is **his** thing, and it should stay that way, but Ren squeezes his hand to shut him up before he can say it. _

_“Truly,” Ren tells him, “Thank you, Hux. I don’t know that I make a good friend.”_

_“You don’t.”_

_Honesty isn’t always flowery._

_“You plan to keep me anyway, though?”_

_Hux looks down at their twined hands, thinks how strange Ren is for not knowing basic social protocols, thinks about how much he’ll miss Ren randomly holding his hand for no other purpose than to hold it. He wishes his grip were strong enough to keep Ren here on **Aurora** with him. He knows he can’t, though._

_He holds Ren’s hand, and he is holding something mortal._

_“As long as I can, yes.”_

_As if reading his mind, Ren tells him, “don’t let physical absence fool you.”_

_Hux is worried emotionally charged words will come barreling out of him without control if he looks at Ren’s eyes, so he keeps his focus on the ground. Ren doesn’t seem offended._

_“I will always be with you. Always.”_

**_I believe you_** _, Hux thinks, clearly, levelly, **I believe you.**_


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, Hux's song is Song for Zula by Phosphorescent.

_When Ren asks about Hux’s relationship with Phasma, he is tempted to lie. He’s tempted to tell Ren that they simply met during their Academy years, hit it off, and never found themselves separated, but Ren would know he was lying – it’s too unlikely a story. Hux is too unsociable. It’d be easier to just tell the truth._

_He’s never told the truth, though. He’s not sure how to._

_The words that come to his mind are insufficient, and when he tries to explain it, he fumbles for diction, and trails off. He’s never felt so inadequately equipped before. He’s given plenty of speeches in his time – Academy kids quote him in papers, for fuck’s sake. He knows himself, and considers himself, generally, a man of few words, but while they’re few, they’re powerful when spoken, and he would have pictured himself better prepared for this. He’s not prepared, though._

_In a leap of faith, he trusts Ren not to sift through his memories, and offers them up – offers **specific** ones. This leap of faith, he thinks, will truly show him whether or not Ren is worth the inner turmoil he’s thrust himself into._

_There is no telling the story of how he came to care so deeply about Phasma without telling this story, this story that he’s never shared. The majority of his most seminal moments in life are secret – filled with shame, darkness, and often, from his end, sociopathic apathy. He knows his own story, how he came to be the man he is, is not a story for the squeamish, and he knows how disturbing his worldview can be to outsiders. He is not a man good at extending himself, and he’s unpracticed in sharing this most vulnerable part of himself, but he pledged to try._

_So, he will._

_When words fail him, he offers his memories, and while he relives the events in his head, he can sort of feel Ren traveling through the segments; he blocks Ren from seeing the assault. He can do that much._

_Honesty is one thing, but bleeding himself raw in front of Ren is not required. He has never told **that** story. Not even to Phasma. Not really. It is one story he **never wants** to tell. He intends to go to his grave with that shame._

_Truth be told, he still blames himself for it happening in the first place. He killed D’Jac, but at the time, killing D’Jac was just what had to be done to survive – as unfeeling as erasing the droid’s memory, or altering the security recordings, or removing that boy's leg. He didn’t do it for vengeance. He did it for control. Everything he’s ever done in his life has been for control – Phasma is right about him that way._

_He doesn’t know whether or not that is something ugly about him. Phasma seems to forgive him his need for control, but he isn’t quite sure how others live so carelessly. He doesn’t remember a time before his compulsive need for order._

_He hopes that when Ren sees his thought process – just what he was thinking that night he tried to take his life – that Ren won’t think Hux’s mind an ugly place to be from now, just because there's blood all over the place. He once told Hux that Hux’s mind is organized and symmetrical – that there was artful beauty in its order. He hopes that Ren finding out his orderly charade conceals several broken mechanisms won’t change his mind._

_If Ren’s mind is changed by what he’s seen afterward, he doesn’t show it._

_Somehow, sharing his artwork is harder than sharing the memories of his suicide attempt. Hux doesn’t understand it himself, certainly can’t explain it – but allowing Ren to see just how ‘occasionally,’ he thinks of Ren makes him anxious. Hux chooses his subjects very deliberately._

_He draws Phasma because she is his sister, and he admires her focus, and strength. When she fights, she is almost as captivating as Ren, and he cares deeply about her. Drawing her is natural._

_He draws Millicent because Millicent is, as Ren so often puts it, his ‘adoptive daughter.’ He’d mock Ren for that more often if it weren’t so accurate. Besides, she has very expressive eyes._

_He draws Mitaka because he’s fairly positive Mitaka was the young man on suicide watch, that fateful night at combat training._

_He’s not sure why that drives him to document Mitaka._

_He tries to draw what he remembers his mother looking like, but he often gets frustrated with his wavering memory of her. Many attempted portraits have been crumpled and thrown into trash bins. There was one very accurate attempt – the closest he ever came to truly capturing her likeness, as his memory serves, but he lost it somehow. And Hux **never** loses **anything**. He sometimes thinks Phasma has hidden it from him. She would only do such a thing to care after him, so he feels no anger over it, but he’s too worried about the answer to ask her why she would hide it from him._

_He draws his brother because when he does, his brother haunts him less. Every time Hux puts pencil to paper, and renders his lost brother, he is able to reflect calmly on mortality, the loss of innocence – the thoughts that usually drive him to obsess for more control. Having an outlet like the one he has on paper helps a lot, though. He’s able to think on these things the way he needs to, without getting lost in his own head. Rather, the webs of existential dread carefully sewn around his skull make their way onto the paper, and give him some peace._

_He draws Ren because he can’t stop thinking about the man. When he draws Ren, he feels thrilled, and his hand moves faster, and more deliberately, than in any other subject he dedicates time to._

_It’s hard to deny Ren when he asks to keep one of the pictures – Hux would feel similarly disappointed if the situation were reversed. That Ren wants to keep memorabilia of Hux at all is something very moving._

_Friends do that type of thing – keep evidence of one another, so that when they’re apart, they can be reminded of times spent together, or maybe just reminded, and reassured, that they have a friend in the big, dark universe at all._

_Pilots keep memorabilia of lovers, and family, and some of the more superstitious pilots even keep renderings of Angels for ‘good luck.’_

_Keeping something like drawings or holophotos – that’s the type of things sweethearts do. He wonders if his mother would have wanted him to be someone's sweetheart._

_He momentarily considers giving Ren a copy of a holophoto of himself, as he knows Phasma keeps one in her quarters, but he can’t think of a single one he likes (even the one he allows Phasma to keep, he doesn’t care for). He’s just not photogenic. He never has been._

**_I can give him something golden, though_** _, Hux realizes with an unreal magnitude, and sudden fear._

_He touches at his dog tags, a nervous buzzing in his head. He knows what they read. He got them engraved by a man he later killed – the man knew his full name, Hux couldn’t just let him roam about. Anyway, the man was never missed._

_Removing the chain from his neck, he takes one look at the top tag before unclipping it, and hiding it in his desk drawer._

_The top tag reads;_

**_Name: Aurelien R. Hux_**

**_Birth Date: 12 Telona, 8 ABY_ **

**_Rank: O-10, CDI_**

**_Species: Human_ **

**_Specializations: Beast Rider, Aviation and Ordinance Engineer, Gunner (Preferred), Advanced Infantry, Expert Sharpshooter, Heavy Weapons Specialist, Traffic Controller, Special Forces_ **

_That’s too much to expose. Even knowing that, he’s still tempted to take the tag back out from the drawer, and give it to Ren anyway. He looks at the tremor in his hands, and convinces himself that’d be a worse idea than the one he’s already having._

_He tells Ren to kneel for him, more because it’s difficult to look him in the eye as he does this, but it winds up looking (and feeling) a lot like an official Knighting. He imagines being Emperor, then, imagines Ren in robes and armor different than he usually wears – ones truly befitting of an Emperor’s Knight. The fantasy helps him to relax a little, but his heart is still pumping hard, and his stomach is still twisted up, and his hands are still shaking._

_He thinks even if he **were** Emperor, and Ren **were his** Knight, his hands would still shake._

_He drapes the chain over Ren’s head after presenting the second tag to him. He feels a little sick with anxiety, but that anxiety is washed away when Ren looks at him with eyes positively **glowing** – he surges up, and picks Hux up off the ground with his joy. He really is a cyclone._

_Hux tells Ren he wants to be put down, but he doesn’t mean it – Ren doesn’t listen, anyway. He threatens to kill Ren if Ren doesn’t put him down, which is the emptiest threat he's ever made, and Ren just tells him, ‘this is a fine way to die.’_

_Hux wants to tell him that being embraced by him is thrilling, unnatural in the best way, and it provides him this completely unacceptable sense of safety. He wants to tell Ren to never let go - to lean down, brush aside Ren's ridiculous hair, whisper in his ear 'I agree, it is a fine way to die. Never let go, then.'_

_Ren puts enough space between them to look up at Hux, and Hux feels how hot his face is, knows it must be a bright red by now. He used to hate Ren for making a fool of him like this, but he doesn’t mind right now. Not the way he used to._

_Ren tells him that his eyes are beautiful, and Hux has no way of saying what he really means, so he threatens to 'destroy,' Ren – another empty threat Ren laughs at._

_Falling asleep that rest cycle is difficult for Hux. He doesn’t want Ren sleeping so far from him, despite him being only a few feet away, really. It feels discourteous to have Ren there for his sleep cycle, and to not invite him into the comfort of his bed. That is an invitation to much more, though – Hux is an icon of self-control, but he’s been slipping around Ren gradually more, and more, every moment he spends with the man._

_Inviting Ren into his bed might feel like the proper thing to do, but it’s also the most dangerous thing to do, and Hux can’t bring himself to do it. He winds up throwing his boot at Ren’s head instead._

_The next cycle is spent mostly on Naalol._

_So strange, that when he is with Ren like this – looking at Angels, dressed down, eating in the open, with no schedule at all, he is not General Hux of the First Order. He’s just Aurelien Hux. And Aurelien Hux is… a man? Hux supposes? Hux never really got to know Aurelien well before trying to erase him from all existence. Not quite average, but free, and wondrous, in a way average men are._

_He’s rather shocked when Ren cries on his shoulder during meditation – he accepts it calmly only because he’s in the depth of Delta waves, and very little of his brain is actually at its typically high standard of functionality. Feeling Ren all around him, sheathing him in tranquility, and safety, skin against skin – the feel of Ren’s hair falling onto his shoulder, the flutter of Ren’s lashes against his neck – Ren’s hands on him, encircling him… it’s easily the most erotic experience of Hux’s life._

_He’s calm enough to accept that for what it is, and not blow it out of proportion, and panic over it. Focusing on Ren’s breakthrough in finding ‘peace,’ is a good distraction. And when he asks Ren if he gave that peace to Ren, and Ren tells him he did, Hux feels validated. All it took was trying. He just had to **try** a little, and he was able to give a man like Ren some peace._

_He’s too humbled by it to be proud of himself._

_He wonders if that’s what it means to be golden._

_He thinks he’ll never know._

_When they make it back to_ **Aurora** _, burdened with the knowledge of Ren’s impending departure, they quietly hide away to Hux’s quarters. Millicent seems pleased that they’re back, and the time they spend together is reminiscent to Hux of the time he spends with Phasma. The only difference is that he is feeling something now he does not feel for Phasma._

_When Ren lies down on his bed, and Millicent so easily flops over, ready to be pet, and worshipped, Hux makes a quiet joke about her being too much like her father. Then he takes in the image – the whole expanse of Ren’s skin, and how his figure is so perfectly carved, his arms muscular, and contradictory to the softness of Millicent lying next to him. He starts drawing it – this moment, this quiet moment that captures everything he will miss and meditate for, and cannot stand the knowledge of losing – this he **must** document. _

_They trade quiet words for an hour or so while Hux sketches, and Ren laughs lowly, and softly, every time Hux scolds Millicent for stretching, or changing position. Hux calls in tea for them after a while, massaging his wrist, and complaining about the mass of inboxes he has to get to the next cycle, how useless the engineers are, how spoiled he’s become from Ren’s ability to get him off work._

_Hux takes a seat on his bed, and Millicent leaves them to curl up on the couch. Ren moves further down the bed, closest to the wall to make room for Hux, who lowers himself down onto the plush sheets, and sighs._

_“What will I do with you gone?” Hux asks the ceiling, “Regain control of my ship, and reestablish some order around here, but to what end?”_

_He doesn’t expect a response, but after a short silence, Ren says, as if neither of them were aware before, “I leave next cycle.”_

_“Yes,” Hux replies stoically, working hard to keep his voice and face even as he turns to face Ren, “You do. Are you frightened?”_

_“What is there to be frightened of?”_

_Hux rolls his eyes, “torture, deprivation chambers, Supreme Leader – do you really need a list?”_

_Ren smiles gently at him, and says, “no. I am not frightened. Do you think I ought to be?”_

_Hux shrugs, wants to say something else, but is unsure of what._

_“I heard you humming when you bathed. Do you sing?”_

_Hux’s heart drops into his stomach._

_“You were listening?”_

_“Unintentionally,” Ren replies, like the pinnacle of innocence._

**_Yeah, that’s likely_** _, Hux thinks sarcastically._

_“I wasn’t listening for it as much as it came to me. Do you, though?”_

**_I used to sing and whistle with my droid. My droid once told me I have perfect pitch. I didn’t know any songs, and neither did my droid, so we made them up together sometimes._ **

_“I only know one song,” Hux chooses to say instead._

_Ren quirks a curious brow, turning his head on Hux’s pillow to better face him._

_“Only the one? Why?”_

_“I don’t know,” Hux answers, looking up at his ceiling again, “I heard it once – I was young, and I can’t even recall where exactly I heard it from. But I remember all of the notes very clearly, all of the instruments and lyrics. But I only know that one. With work like mine, I go many days without speaking to people at times and during those times, singing to myself is the only way to hear my own voice.”_

_“Will you sing it for me?”_

_Hux turns his head finally to look at Ren incredulously._

_“Are you being serious?”_

_“Entirely.”_

_“Ren, I am a General of the First Order, not a rented songbird.”_

_“You’re no General of any Order right now,” Ren tells him, and Hux is tempted to tell Ren just how right he is about that, “You’re off-duty. Right now, you are just my friend. So, will you sing it for me?”_

_Hux is alarmed for a few seconds, a little shy, but he lets his anxiety pass through him like a ghost. His earlier meditation is still having a comforting effect on him, keeping his stress low, and his mind open. There is an energy surrounding them like a bubble, but much stronger – a fortress of time. And nothing outside of it matters._

_This is part of the ‘trying,’ Hux assumes. He surrenders to it._

_“Fine, but you are not permitted to mock me.”_

_“I would never dream of it.”_

_Hux gives him a dry look, and then shuts his eyes, facing the ceiling again._

_Hux can feel Ren’s eyes on him as he recalls the instrumentals of the song – it makes his heart patter a little faster. He tries to ignore that. He focuses on the music, the string and synthetic noises that all came together in a way that stayed with Hux for so many years for their perfection._

_It takes Hux a few moments to start, but he’s able to sing it. His voice is tired, it has a little gravel to it, and he’s self-conscious, but he’s no one but Aurelien Hux right now. He’s just a man. He has nothing more to prove. He can sing, and his voice doesn’t have to be perfect, and he doesn’t have to be tame, or orderly. He can just share this piece of himself with Ren, and hope it’s some sort of step in the direction of the feeling of home he once dreamt of as a child._

_“ **Some say love is a burning thing, that it makes a fiery ring. Oh, but I know love as a fading thing. Just as fickle as a feather in a stream. See, honey, I saw love. You see, it came to me. It put its face up to my face so I could see. Yeah, then I saw love… disfigure me…into something I am not recognizing…** ”_

_Hux thinks he feels Ren searching his mind for information on this song – Hux has nothing to offer. He thinks he maybe heard it from one of Brendol’s music players, or perhaps he heard it while undercover during his infantry days – he really can’t recall. He just knows the words, and the sounds, and he remembers how he felt in that moment. Like someone understood him, like this collection of noises, and carefully chosen words, knew what he had been through, and wanted to validate him – not forgive him or avenge him, just assure him that it was all real. That his pain counts. That his pain has a voice, somewhere out there in the lonely galaxy._

_“ **See, the cage, it called. I said, “Come on in.” I will not open myself up this way again. Nor lay my face to the soil, nor my teeth to the sand. I will not lay like this for days now upon end. You will not see me fall, nor see me struggle to stand, to be acknowledged by some touch from his gnarled hands. You see, the cage, it called. I said, “Come on in…” I will not open myself up this way again…** ”_

_Hux’s heart aches and his brows pull in. He didn’t think singing this song would be difficult for a reason other than the physical aspect of actually doing it. This song is engraved in some part of him, though. It means more than Ren could possibly know. But maybe he can feel it. Maybe Ren can tell that the words and musical notes were crafted by another’s hands, but they are words from the depth of himself. They are words he means, and they are words he is terrified by, authenticated by; they are words he has lived by. Until now._

_“ **You see, the moon is bright in that treetop night. I see the shadows that we cast in the cold, clean light. My feet are gold and my heart is white, and we race out on the desert plains all night. See, honey, I am not some broken thing… I do not lay here in the dark waiting for thee. No my heart is gold, and my feet are light, and I am racing out on the desert plains all night…** ”_

_Hux’s fingers stop tapping in time to the rhythm, his hands going still over his chest, and while his cheeks are warm with embarrassment, he finishes with a steady voice, low and still a little ill at ease, “ **so, some say love is a burning thing. That it makes a fiery ring. Oh, but I know love as a caging thing. Just a killer come to call from some awful dream. Oh, and all you folks, you come to see - you just stand there in the glass looking at me, but my heart is wild. And my bones are steam. And I could kill you with my bare hands if I was free…** ”_

_After a few moments of silence have passed, Ren sends to Hux, **you have a beautiful singing voice.**_

**_No, I don’t._ **

****

**_Yes, you do. I’m honored to have heard it._ **

****

**_Shut up, Ren._ **

****

**_Why do you think that song has remained with you for so long?_ **

****

**_I don’t know_** _, Hux lies._

_Ren reaches over, and brushes some hair from Hux’s forehead, as Hux often does to him. Hux does open his eyes to that, and finds Ren’s staring right back at him; his heart may be calm, but when he looks at Ren, he feels the vulnerability and defensiveness of a feral animal._

_“You have given me so much, and I feel like I’ll be parting at the start of the next cycle without having left you anything of significance.”_

_“Like you’d ever have something I’d want,” Hux rolls his eyes, finding a reason to look down at his fiddling hands._

****

**_You’d never give it to me anyway_** _, Hux thinks, **I’d have to steal it if I ever wanted it.** **And I can’t… I can’t steal that from you. Not from you.**_

_“There is one thing I am frightened of.”_

_Hux looks at Ren again, and Ren now is the one unable to maintain eye-contact. Ren looks down at the bedding, and admits, “I think I fooled myself into believing I had known what loneliness was before having known you as I do now, and I am frightened that when I leave… that’s when I’ll truly know what loneliness is.”_

_Feeling helpless to do or say anything else, Hux mutters, “I’m sorry…”_

_Ren asks, “why?”_

_Hux shakes his head, confused himself, and says, “I don’t know. It feels like it’s my fault.”_

_“You should consider Nali’s hypothesis,” Ren tells him._

_“Which one, exactly?”_

_“The one about us being soul mates.”_

_Thinking this is a painful joke told again in poor taste, Hux shoves Ren in the chest, finding him too dense and sturdy to throw over, and getting frustrated over it, complaining that he’s made of rocks. Hux starts in on another tangent about the mathematical improbability of soul mates, and Ren only smiles gently in return._

_At some point, while gesticulating in the open air, and in the midst of his tangent, Hux hears a light snore. He stops talking, and turns his head to see Ren having fallen asleep. He wonders if Ren usually sleeps so soundly. He has spoken of nightmares in the past - being haunted by old memories and visions, typically feeling unrested. Hux likes to think that maybe his presence unconsciously soothes Ren into sleeping well. And, as Hux looks down at Ren, he can't help but think Ren looks young like that – peaceful, and at rest._

 

_One of his hands is open with its palm facing up, and he’s sleeping on his side, facing Hux. Hux slithers down gently so as not to rustle Ren, and he fits his hand into Ren’s, palm-to-pam, splaying his fingers over Ren's, and comparing the respective lengths of their fingers._

_“You’re so rude. Didn’t even say goodnight,” Hux murmurs._

_Ren doesn’t stir at all._

_He leans in closer, his lips close to Ren’s hands, his nose close to Ren’s, and he looks up at Ren’s shut eyes. They’re not moving yet._

**_He isn’t in REM yet_** _, Hux thinks to himself, **Must be in Delta.**_

_He moves his fingers in delicate patterns across Ren’s broad, calloused palm, and watches how evenly and peacefully Ren sleeps. He remembers sitting at Ren's bedside when he was in the med bay, recovering. He remembers how the lights would flicker, glasses would break, machinery would shut down entirely, while Ren thrashed through night terrors. He remembers how, with just a brush of his hand over Ren's hair, the flickering, breaking, and shutting down, would stop completely._

 

_He sighs, and is surprised by the wet, pitifully sad sound it is. He curls his forefinger around Ren’s thumb, and says gently, voice shaking, and with a single tear falling down his cheek and onto the pillow, “…my name is Aurelien.”_

_He lets out another shaky exhale, his eyes watering faster than he can control. He blinks a few times, letting the tears fall – he doesn’t care about his pride right now. He doesn’t care that he’s crying, or what it means._

_He lies down on his back, takes Ren’s free arm, and lays it down across his middle. He places his hand over Ren’s, looks at him again, and with drowsy, teary eyes, he says again, “my name is Aurelien, Ren. You can call me Ari if you want. Only when we’re in private. But that’s it. I want you to know it. You… can be the only one. The only one who knows. It’s Aurelien. I'm Aurelien.”_

_Hux swallows, and it’s hot, it’s difficult, because he’s saying so much more than his name._

_“That’s my name. I’m Aurelien.”_

_Another deep, wavering intake later, and Hux shuts his eyes, puts his head to the pillow, and basks in the warmth Ren’s body radiates. He sleeps as well as he can – the stress and turmoil of Ren leaving upon the next cycle causes him tension, but Ren’s right there, right now, and that soothes him. He wishes he could freeze time. Stop it right here, and never move. He wishes he could keep this. He wishes he were deserving of golden things._


	18. Chapter 18

_When Hux wakes, it’s slowly, blearily._

_He woke once during the sleep cycle to find that Ren, in his sleep, had tugged him closer, and Hux hadn’t felt suffocated by it – he rather liked it, actually. Every paranoid fiber in him should have felt revulsion at it, at being pulled close to Ren, but he could admit in the privacy of his mind at least that he liked the furnace of Ren’s skin on his, and how soft Ren’s breath felt against him as he sighed peacefully in sleep._

_Listening to the serene rhythm of Ren’s breathing helped Hux fall asleep quickly after that again, and now he wakes with a distinct chill in the air that has him rubbing his upper arms in an attempt to gather some inexplicably lost warmth. He sits up, his hair feeling disheveled, and the sensation of indents from his pillow making his face too warm._

_He is bothered that Ren is no longer there beside him, but bothered more by the looming sense that something is terribly wrong. He can’t sense another presence in his quarters at all._

_He hears Millicent meow at him, and he looks at her, his eyes blinking rapidly from their sleep, and she looks as concerned as he feels. He looks to his clock, sees it is far past his usual waking hour, and, more than that, it’s about half an hour before Ren’s estimated time of departure._

_He scrambles from the bed inelegantly, tripping on the blanket as he stumbles to his shower, and he shouts at Millicent from the shower stall, “why didn’t you wake me sooner!?”_

**_He better not have left_** _, Hux thinks to himself as he scratches his scented soaps into his hair with much too much force, **That fucker better not have fucking left. I will track his pod down just to kill him for it if he has.**_

****

_Hux has never rushed through his routine before as he does now – even when he’s been called to duty, he’s always taken the time to see that every hair is in place, and that the uniform he wears is proud, pristine, and as perfect, and honorable as the Order he represents in wearing it. There’s no time for any of that now. There’s no time for pride. Ren is **leaving**._

_While he’s hopping on one foot, tugging on one of his boots with their designated hooks, he looks over at Millicent, a toothbrush still hanging from his foaming mouth, and he says, (partially garbled by bubbling paste, and water) “sorry for shouting, Millicent, darling. It isn’t your fault Ren is a human disaster.”_

_Millicent seems to accept his apology, and just watches him closely as he hurries through his dressing, and rushes out of his quarters. He starts off at a strong walking pace, but soon he’s jogging, uncaring of what the others who pass him will think of it. He finds Officer Vitaan as he’s taking off toward the hangars. They both come to a halt, and stare at one another._

_Hux is probably wearing his emotions loudly, and clearly, on his flustered face, and certainly no subordinates have ever seen him run for anything other than battle. He clenches and unclenches his leathered fists, and says in greeting, “Officer Vitaan.”_

_“General Hux,” she says back, a knowing twinkle in her eye, “Lord Kylo Ren was just through here. If you hurry, you can catch him before he boards.”_

_“Thank you,” Hux tells her, and without another word, runs off in the direction of the hangars. He thinks he feels Officer Vitaan’s eyes on his back as he goes._

_He uses his comm to command that no pods leave the hangar until he has arrived, but Haas has his comm turned off for some reason. Probably just negligent. He’ll punish Haas later – if he can’t reach the hangar by comm, he’ll just have to get there by foot before Ren can leave._

_As he’s running, several troopers and officers start running with him, asking what is wrong, and if there is some sort of protocol they should be adhering to that they’ve not received orders for. He just shakes his head, and sends them away, tells them he’s fine, there’s no emergency they’re unaware of, and when he arrives at the bridge in the hangars, he sees Phasma._

_“Phasma!” Hux calls, a small degree of relief in his voice._

_She turns to him, brows confused, “Hux? What’s happening?”_

_“Where is Ren?”_

_“What do you mean ‘where is Ren?’” Phasma asks dangerously, “Do you mean to tell me he jumped ship before saying goodbye?”_

_“Has he boarded?” Hux interrogates._

_“Yes – just now!” Phasma exclaims, gesticulating toward the only lit pod on the ground._

_He looks down at the pod, then off to the side of the bridge. At the end of the bridge to his right, he sees a long cable that will bring him to the flight deck, if he were to slide down it. He doesn’t say anything more to Phasma._

_Phasma makes some sort of disconcerted noise, but once Hux has an idea in his head, he’s unlikely to change it for anything rational. He runs to the cable, and with the force he grabs onto it with, it swings like a jungle vine as he slides down – he can hear the officers, and pilots biting back laughter, and wondering loudly at what in the Hells has gotten into their General._

_The cable takes him down almost sixty feet. Once he’s reached the floor, he sees the only activated travel pod, and storms at it. He has no idea what he’s about to say or do, but he’ll be damned if he’s going to let Ren just walk out without a proper goodbye._

_It’s unbecoming of a gentleman to leave without regards._

_Yes. What is most gentlemanly. That’s what’s bothering Hux._

_He makes it into the pod, hears the angry clatter of his own boots on the metal boarding ramp, and once he’s inside, he shuts the door behind him._

_He’s not sure why he does that._

 

_He might have some delusion of leaving with Ren. He's not sure. He hasn't thought this through at all._

 

_Taking this pod somewhere other than where it’s destined to go, and defect, or ghost themselves. He’s erased all identification of himself before – surely he could do the same for Ren. If they ran away together…_

_Hux doesn’t entertain that thought any longer than it takes to half-form it. It’s useless to think about. Ren is the leader of the Knights of Ren, and Supreme Leader Snoke would surely find them, even if Ren **was** willing to leave everything behind. He doesn’t think Ren would. And just because he’s lost his mind over Ren doesn’t mean the entire galaxy can come to a screeching halt. Life must go on._

_When Ren turns to face him, Hux is standing at the opening of the pod, his hair a little frayed still, his fists tight, and his face livid._

_A few beats pass before after the door shuts, before Ren says plainly, “Hux. I didn’t think I’d see you.”_

**_No, apparently not_** _, Hux projects at Ren, making clear how highly offended he is by Ren’s silent exit._

_“Yes, well, I’m here. Only proper to say goodbye.”_

**_Why do I sound so awkward? I'm not an awkward person. Ren is awkward, I'm not awkward. Stop being awkward!_ ** _Hux thinks to himself, knowing why he's being awkward, but not wanting to admit it to himself._

_Hux suddenly regrets being there at all. Maybe he should have let Ren leave quietly._

 

_But Hell will truly be frozen over the day Kylo Ren has a better idea than Hux about handling anything._

_“Goodbye,” is not a word Hux is used to saying, and he has never said it to Ren. He’s **wanted** to, in the past. _

_He’s even fantasized about a moment like this – a glorious, wondrous moment when Supreme Leader Snoke would reign this mad man in, and free Hux from his tantrums, and what he mockingly used to call ‘wizardry.’ He thought he’d feel gladness, excitement, that he'd feel cleansed and energized enough to argue with Phasma about why he should be allowed cake to celebrate. Now that this parting is a reality, though… he just sort of feels nauseous._

_“Right. Only proper. Goodbye, then, Hux,” Ren replies stiltedly, offering his hand to shake._

_The proffered hand goes untouched at first. Hux runs a gloved hand over his hair – a nervous tic – thinking he might shout or otherwise make a scene rather than take Ren’s offer. He’s calculating and weighing his options, and he can’t see any other way out of this. Goodbyes, in Hux’s experience (usually viewing them from the outside), can be peaceful, or one of the parties reluctant to say their goodbyes can plant some artificial anger between them and end it with a fight._

_Saying “fuck off,” is a lot easier than peaceably saying, “I surrender you.”_

_He’s not like Ren, though – Ren is the type to leave in anger, so that he won’t have to cope with heartache. It would seem Ren tried to avoid a goodbye altogether. Maybe it’s his own type of mercy – maybe he was gifting Hux with a reason to be mad at him. Hux isn’t having any of that, though – no, if Ren never returns to **Aurora** … _

_Hux stiffens at the remembrance that this may very well be the last time he sees Ren. Ever._

* * *

“How long will you be gone?”

 

“I have no way of knowing.”

 

“Well – when did he say you’d be back?”

 

“He… didn’t.”

 

“He didn’t what? Give you an estimate?”

 

“No. No, I… I am not predicted to return to _Aurora.”_

* * *

_Hux makes an attempt to swallow the something hot stuck in his throat, and fails. He sharpens his stare, preparing his heart for the great oncoming ache, and shakes Ren’s hand firmly, unwilling to let Ren leave in anger. Even if it’s what Ren wants. Even if it’s what Ren needs._

_Once he’s let go, he stands there in a strained silence, so reluctant to leave the pod, so worried about walking out, and never seeing that stupid bucket again, or that black cloak fluttering like ravens’ wings. He can’t bear the thought of it._

_He knows he’ll have to turn around sometime, but he can’t yet. He winds up saying the only thing on his mind, “well, this is, uhm… much more difficult than I first imagined.”_

**_How else did you imagine it?_ **

_Hux glares at Ren, and doesn’t deign to respond._

_“Anything else to say? I’m already running late.”_

**_There it is_** _, Hux thinks to himself, **You’re turning to anger. You want me to be mad at you, so that it will make this easier. You’ve never made anything easy for me, so don’t expect me to make this easy for you either. If I’m going down, then you’re going down with me.**_

_Hux clears his throat, and stammers out inelegantly, and only partially jokingly, “yes – I, well, you’ve been an absolute nightmare to have on board, and I’m glad to be rid of you. Safe travels, of course, best wishes, and all.”_

_He can feel a sort of lightness in the air - he knows Ren gets what he means - understands him. He fights the urge to smile, and finds himself staring at Ren’s armored chest, and cracks his knuckles compulsively. Ren doesn’t take long to ask, “what else?”_

_“Hmm?” Hux asks, brought back to reality – reality that is moving much too quickly. Reality that keeps reminding him that he’ll eventually need to walk away from Ren._

_“There’s something else you want to say. I can sense it.”_

**_There are so many more things I want to say_** _, Hux thinks, **W** **here do I begin? I don’t mind telling you, now – I’ll tell you about combat training if you ask me, Ren. I’ll talk about my attempt to take my own life. How I failed. How I’m glad, now, that I failed. I’d still like to talk about the Angels with you. I’d like for you to teach me more about the Force, how you mastered it, and how you came to be who you are. And I can’t imagine I’ve taught you all that was unavailable to you in primary schools. I’d like to teach you more about light travel, cognition, and behavior, and I’d like you to show me all the things I can’t see with my plainly human eyes. Yes, Ren. There are a million things I still want to say.**_

_The air is very still and Hux struggles to say, “…I’m not… a kind man, Ren.”_

_It’s always difficult talking to Ren like this, when he can’t see Ren’s expression, or read any passing of judgment in his eyes._

_“No, certainly not,” Ren agrees._

_Hux clasps his hands behind his lower back and, keeping his heart deliberately leveled at thirty-three beats per minute, he admits, “I wanted to steal something from you. Before you left. I’m considering letting you leave with it, though.”_

_“Steal something from me?” Ren asks, sounding intrigued, “What could I have that you’d possibly want?”_

_Hux’s eyes turn hard with determination, and he stares at where he knows Ren’s eyes are beyond his helmet. With every ounce of courage left in him, Hux steps forward, and grabs the sides of Ren’s helmet._

**_You want my mask?_ **

_Hux doesn’t answer that, because it’s a stupid question, and Ren is the worst and best thing to have ever happened to him, and he really, **really** doesn’t want to say “goodbye.” _

_Hux pulls Ren down by his helmet, and presses his lips against where Ren’s mouth would be if it were off. He shuts his eyes, wondering if any of this is real._

_He hopes it’s not._

_He hopes he’ll wake up in bed with Ren still next to him, half-hard from the thought of just **kissing** him, and with some newly constructed miracle in mind that will keep Ren aboard **Aurora**. Hux has never believed in miracles, though. _

_Pain is what ties Hux to reality. It’s all he knows reality to be. He knows he isn’t dreaming, because this stings, and burns, and aches – **that** is reality. Dreams offer painlessness, even when they are plagued with terrors. Hux can tell Ori, Brendol, and D’Jac are all unreal, because none of them hurt him anymore. Hux can tell Ren, kissing Ren’s mask, parting with Ren – he can tell it’s all real, because it is the most painful experience he’s had to date. _

_It hurts, so it must be real._

_Once Hux pulls away, he takes a few steps back, and opens his eyes, looking down at his gloves, and fixing at the cuffs that don’t need fixing. He knows they don’t need fixing, but he needs a distraction. He’s embarrassed, he’s in pain, he's embarrassed that he's in any pain, and he wants to run away as much as he wants to cling to Ren and refuse to let go._

_He needs to keep his hands busy so they don’t find their way back onto Ren._

_“There,” Hux says with finality, “I know what it’s like to have it stolen – that first one. That’s not what I wanted to do to you. Consider it a mind trick of my own. Now, whenever someone else takes your first kiss, you’ll feel them, but you’ll think of me. I will come to the forefront of your mind, despite never actually having taken it from you… I wanted to steal your memory, I suppose. So. Yes. That’s… that’s all.”_

_Ren says nothing, at first, and doesn’t move an inch – leave it to Ren to make an impossibly humiliating situation even more so. Hux looks anywhere but at him, and mutters, “well… safe travels, Lord Kylo Ren. And, uhm… what is it they say? Might safety always find you, and – ah, yes – may the Force be with you. Safe travels, Ren, and may the Force be with you.”_

_Clawing to escape, Hux goes to leave, and barely a second passes before he finds himself wrapped up in a Force hold like Ren once put him in when he visited Ren in the med bay. His chest is burning like it did then too. He’s a few inches off the ground, and can’t move his limbs. It feels like rope lassoed all around him, and he’d usually scold Ren for something like this, but even with the embarrassment, the uncertainty, and the pain, he’s still glad to be in the pod with Ren._

_“What makes you so sure that it will be taken, and not given?”_

_“What?”_

_Ren turns Hux’s body around, and plants him back onto the floor. Hux watches as Ren releases the clasps of his helmet, and takes it off, setting it aside. Hux swallows nervously, and watches warily as Ren approaches him._

_“What makes you so certain that my first kiss will be taken from me, and not willfully given?”_

_Hux doesn’t answer, only looks wide-eyed at Ren, unsure of what the right or safest answer would be._

_“What if I gave it away?”_

_Hux stumbles a few feet backward, until his back hits a wall. He looks over his shoulder at the wall, as if he’s searching for a latch or some escape route, but Ren has him cornered and trapped._

**_I don’t mind._ **

_That dawning realization is more terrifying than anything to Hux – he doesn’t **mind being trapped** by Ren. He doesn’t mind that there’s **no escape** from Ren – literally **or** figuratively. He doesn’t mind that he’s cornered, that this is painful, and shouldn’t be happening at all. He doesn’t mind it. He’s petrified, but no – he doesn’t mind it._

_He used to be so **numb** , he ran headlong into danger, blasters fired at him, and missed, his reflexes always too quick, his body always too agile, his mind always too sharp – he cared enough to maintain those qualities, but outside of himself, he didn’t **care** – he didn’t care about **anything** other than his own accomplishments, his ego, and his image in regard to the Order. He didn’t **feel** anything for anyone, aside from Phasma, and eventually a very, very fortuitous cat._

_Looking at Ren, now, though, he feels **everything** , and he’s not resentful about it like he was after the gala. He’s glad for it. _

_He’s glad he’s in pain. He’s glad Ren is real. He’s glad that the agony of this will be nearly unbearable. He’s glad because he’s **feeling** something, and the last time he felt something he was young, thin, and helpless, but hopeful for the future – full of dreams, and ambitions outside the Order. He was a small thing that dreamt of big beds, and bigger hearts. He was a small mistake everyone tried to sweep under the rug, he was a child whose only friend was a droid – he was a child that needed **Ren** , and now, he’s found him._

_That child, that small mistake, that little thing is still deep inside him somewhere, thankful for his big bed, his spacious quarters – that small, hopeful thing is still alive and it **knows** it’s alive because it’s in pain. Because it finally found Ren, it finally got to hold Ren close to him and now, the time has come to let Ren go. And he has to. He has to let Ren go._

_Just as his mother warned him._

_“What if I gave it to you?”_

_Hux’s eyes widen, and he turns his head slowly to Ren, keeping his heart beating those familiar thirty-three beats per minute._

_“Tell me, Hux,” Ren says, a dangerous tone to his voice that thrills Hux, “Tell me you want it, and you’ll have it.”_

_That offer alone tantalizes and tempts Hux. He suppresses the instinct to lick his lips._

_“I’ve taken what I wanted,” Hux says; he’s petrified that there’s more to be had. He’s petrified of the **more** he’ll feel. He’s petrified. _

_Sounding infinitely frustrated, Ren says to him, “if you want more, tell me now. If you want me to kiss you, Hux, tell me so.”_

_Just the word “kiss,” makes Hux more nervous. He jumps to the defensive – this could all be a ploy, right? Ren might just be trying to embarrass him, right?_

_“What are you trying to –"_

_“I won’t lay a finger on you until you tell me you want me to,” Ren interrupts, face flustered, “I refuse to. You have had enough taken from you, and I refuse to be another memory tainted with theft and regret! I don’t want to take from you, Hux – I don’t want to steal from you.”_

_Hux feels his resolve falling away, all of his control slipping through his hands like sand._

**_He wants for me to feel safe…_ **

_“Stop taming your heart, put aside your ease, your Stoicism, your composure, or whatever it is you’re hiding behind today – and let me in. **Show** yourself to me. Trust me. Tell me what you want.”_

_Letting go of control is the one thing Hux is inexcusably, remarkably terrible at. All his life has been a chase for control, and what Ren is asking of him…_

_Ren will have._

 

_It's suddenly so simple. So clear. So worth doing._

_For Ren, Hux releases control. He imagines battle armor falling off him, and turning to ash on the ground, he imagines his rapier falling from his open palm, and clattering to the floor. He lets go of the reigns. He allows for the galaxy, and for Ren, to do what they will, without trying to control the outcome._

_Letting his expressions show, letting his heart beat as it wants, Hux feels his eyes get glassy, and his breath stutters as he lets his heart rate incline – it all feels dangerous, but exciting. Like all things with Ren._

_“Hux,” Ren starts, his voice raspy, and a little frantic, “Do you want me to kiss you?”_

_Hux’s eyes flicker between Ren’s, his lips part, but nothing comes out; Hux is unsure how to voice everything he wants. Everything he never thought he’d want from anyone, nevermind from **Ren**. _

_“You’re the one I want to give it to,” Ren says softly._

_“What?”_

_“You’re the one,” Ren continues, quickly removing his gloves, and then tugging off Hux’s as well, so that he can twine their fingers – the sensation of their skin meeting is exhilarating, “You’re the one I want to give my kiss to. My first, my last, and all that lie between. So, if you want me to, tell me so now. Do you want me to?”_

**_Stop making vows to me_** _, Hux inwardly begs, without meaning a word of it._

_Ren’s eyes roam around Hux’s face, his neck – it’s strange, Hux has noticed the way Ren sometimes stares at his neck. He wonders why that is, but not out loud. He doesn’t mind. He wants Ren to stare at him. He wants Ren to keep saying he’s beautiful even if it’s unreal, even if it’s a joke. He wants Ren to want to give Hux his affections…_

_He wants Ren to **want him**. _

**_Why has that been so hard to admit until now?_ **

_And that Ren is asking permission – that Ren seems to know without knowing that Hux, in these intimate moments, must be handed like fine china – Hux’s heart starts racing. There’s no way Ren knows what happened to him at combat training. All Ren knows is that Hux's first kiss was stolen, and even though Hux was cruel, and tried to steal something like that from him, he still… Ren still wants him to feel **safe**._

_And he does._

 

_Hux feels safe._

_Ren is looking into Hux’s eyes when Hux mutters back nervously, “…yes.”_

_Ren’s eyes immediately move back to Hux’s, obviously in want for clarification._

_“I… I want you to.”_

_Ren searches Hux’s eyes for a moment, maybe looking for doubts or hesitations, but Hux knows he won’t find any. Ren takes his hands from Hux’s, and cups Hux’s face, brushing his thumbs over Hux’s overheated cheeks. The gesture is so **tender**. His heart aches._

_Leaning in gradually, his eyes still on Hux’s, still lidded, and a little entranced, the first kiss Ren gives him is slow, purposeful, and gentle. It’s **romantic**. _

 

_Hux makes some small, nearly wounded noise when their lips meet for that first time. He knows he’s been kissed before, technically, but it doesn’t feel like it. Not until now._

_Ren tilts Hux by the jaw, moves his lips with just enough pressure, in just the right way, and kisses him more deeply. When Hux moans (unintentionally, of course) in response, he feels Ren’s hands start to tremor. It’s liberating, in a way, to know Ren is as overcome as he is. Maybe there’s a chance Ren really does feel what he feels, as deeply as he feels it…_

_Unsure that he’s ever even **thought** the word to himself, Hux thinks it’s **cute** , the way Ren’s thumbs keep coming to touch the corners of Hux’s mouth. He thinks he knows why Ren is doing it, but his brain feels lethargic, dreamy, and he just doesn’t mind. He doesn’t want to think, he just wants to feel, and the only thing worth feeling, the only feeling he **wants** to feel is the **everything** that only Ren **makes** him feel._

_As soon as Hux opens his mouth, and gently invites Ren in, he feels something like a whirlwind surround him. His belt comes undone, his uniform jacket unzips, and pulls apart. Ren’s hands haven’t left his face, though – they’re still shaking, and just by how warm their lips are against each other, Hux can tell Ren is blushing, and just as flustered as he is. Ren is nervous, then, and maybe he’s not in total control of his powers._

_The thought that Hux can drive Ren to that sharp edge – that just kissing him can make Ren lose control is awe-inspiring, **electrifying**. He’s never before been so inspired by a **loss** of control. _

_Every time they part just to be pulled in again, there’s gasping, and Hux is embarrassed by his own, but endeared by Ren’s. As his clothes are coming undone, his brain moving more slowly than maybe it ever has, it presents him with some basic outline of reality like; **Ren’s taking my clothes off.**_

****

_This is true._

****

**_Ren wants me to be naked._ **

****

_That is a reasonable assumption._

****

**_I want to be naked for Ren._ **

****

_That’s a new revelation._

****

**_Ren should fuck me._ **

****

_That’s a **fan-fucking-tastic** idea._

_His heart starts pounding harder, and he feels blood rush down from his chest to his groin._

**_Stars , yes, Ren should fuck me. I want it. I want it. I want him – _ **

****

**_No –_ ** _Hux’s still higher-functioning brain parts tell him, **no, bad – bad idea, that is a bad idea – we’re on a pod. We’re on a pod, in the hangar, surrounded by my fucking army – stop getting hard, you idiot – he can’t fuck me here. We can’t do anything here – **_

_Ren doesn’t even seem to realize he’s Force-removing Hux’s clothes while Hux struggles to pant breathlessly between kisses telling him, “wait,” “Kylo – wait,” “Kylo – slow down,” “Kylo, we can’t,” but Ren doesn’t stop._

_Hux should mind that a lot more than he does, but he doesn’t want to stop either, so he’s torn – a part of him wants to let Ren continue undressing him, let Ren make him into an unruly cyclone like himself, but he knows he can’t. He’s the orderly one, he’s the one that needs to reign Ren in when he gets out of control. He’s the one that needs to let go._

_Once Hux’s upper and outer layers are open, and off, Ren slides his hand up Hux’s undershirt, and feels at his chest._

_Ren’s right hand is still holding Hux’s face, and when Hux looks at him in confusion, Ren stammers out breathlessly, “I just… I just wanted to feel it. One more time.”_

_Hux might cry again._

**_My name is Aurelien_** _, Hux projects at Ren, unsure if Ren can hear him, unable to make his lips form the words, **My name is Aurelien, and you’re the only one who knows. You’re the only one who will ever know. You can help me kill my father sometime, we make a good team - it could be fun. And then, with him gone, it will be you and me, alone. No one else in the galaxy – in the universe. Our secret. Just you and me. Forever.**_

_Hux’s arms wind around Ren’s neck, pulling him in again, letting out some degrading, needy noise, and kissing him heatedly. Ren’s blessedly strong arms and hands move to hoist Hux up against the wall, press all his weight onto Hux, and as soon as Ren feels how hard he is, Ren gasps against his lips – it’s fine that it breaks the kiss. The friction is immensely appreciated, and Hux groans again, hotter just knowing Ren didn’t even mean for it – he just wanted to do something so innocent and harmless as feel at Hux’s heartbeat._

_Ren looks almost worried about it, and Hux would laugh at Ren's virginal anxiety if any blood were actually in his diaphragm. He shakes his head, and tells Ren in a huff, “your fault… undressing me like that…”_

_Ren doesn’t reply, and Hux is scared for a brief second that he’s broken the spell that fell over them by voicing himself. Ren immediately dismisses that concern. He grinds his waist down against Hux’s experimentally, and Hux pitches forward, his hands gripping at Ren’s hair, and a tortured noise coming from deep in his chest._

_“ **Kylo** ,” Hux murmurs meaningfully._

_Ren leans in again, biting into Hux’s neck, making him intake sharply, and he throws his head back, wanting more of Ren’s mouth on him, more of Ren’s teeth – more of Ren. More of Ren than there is to be had in the man alone, more Ren than there is in the galaxy, in the universe – his selfishness and desires run wild, and he’s so relieved to let them do just that. And so grateful, as well, that Ren is the one who made it safe for him to lose control._

_Ren seems to just **get it** somehow. He uses that opening just as Hux wants him to; he licks up the column of Hux’s neck, sucking at a sensitive patch of skin right below the turn of his jaw, and it’s much too high. That hickey will be visible for at least a standard week, and Hux has no way of covering it up. He doesn’t mind. It feels a lot like Ren marking territory, the beast that he is, and Hux adores it. _

_Hux moans “Kylo,” again, and like a reward, Ren moves his hips again, starts keeping a rhythm, and Hux tugs on his hair, listening closely to, and memorizing, the way Ren gasps when he pulls with just enough strength, thinking he might actually come in his uniform if Ren doesn’t stop grinding against him._

_He knows Ren’s personality well now – he knows what Ren likes to hear in conversation, and he thinks that he might just be able to unwind Ren even more. He mutters close to Ren’s ear, “_ **stars** _, you’re so perfect – you’re so_ **good** _, Kylo. I didn’t – I didn’t know you had this in you –_ **_anh_ ** _–_ **Kylo** _, don’t stop – you feel_ **amazing** _, you –"_

_Ren cuts him off, kissing him, shaking, and moaning, himself, and Hux is proud of himself. He’d like to get Ren back to his quarters. He’d like to see just how undone he can make Ren with just compliments, and words of praise. And for a few blissful moments, there is only the two of them, furiously moving against one another, and kissing each other like it might be the end of all existence. Hux’s nails buried in Ren’s hair the way he’s always thinking about doing for several standard months, and Ren’s enormous hands groping at Hux’s exposed sides, and chest, giving him rushes of sensation he’s never had before._

_Their perfect bubble is abruptly popped when both of them hear Mitaka’s voice on the comm in Hux’s discarded uniform jacket pocket._

_“Uhm – sir? Lord Kylo Ren’s pod is ready for departure. Are you… okay in there? Should I send guards?”_

_They break apart, and Ren stumbles back a little, watching Hux reach for his comm ,and reply, “no – everything is fine. I will be out momentarily.”_

_He turns the comm off, and stands to look at Ren – no, **Kylo**  - he stands to look at **Kylo** more seriously again._

_Hux’s lips feel swollen, there’s a tingling sensation high on his neck where that dark mark is forming, his hair is a mess again, and he finally has a uniform to fix up, but can’t seem bothered to fix at it._

_Kylo steps forward, and kisses him again, **sweetly** , **patiently** , and Hux’s hands come to his face, and encourage him to keep going, to stay put, to never leave, and never stop kissing him. _

_He runs his fingers through Kylo’s hair gently, biting at his bottom lip, and licking after it to soothe away the non-pain he left there. Kylo gathers Hux up in his arms, and kisses him until they’re breathless again, while Hux cups his neck and pulls him forward, wanting him impossibly closer._

_When stopped to catch their collective breath, Hux very reluctantly pulls away, knowing he has to – knowing everyone outside is suspicious, and they might be wondering if Hux and Ren have tried killing each other._

_And maybe they have._

_He starts arranging his uniform again. As he looks down to button his shirt with shaky fingers, he orders with an even shakier voice, “you promised not to stray far. Don’t – don’t try to leave me like that again.”_

_“I’m sorry,” Kylo tells him, looking for all the world that he wants to say more, but can’t manage to._

_Hux looks up at him from his buttoning, and the plea he knows is in his eyes has Kylo gravitating toward him again, kissing him as he does up his shirt, and puts on his jacket. Between every kiss, Kylo swears his allegiance to Hux, he promises to return, and Hux makes fragile, shameless, noises in reply, uncaring that they’re undignified. Uncaring about anything, but Kylo._

_“Do you hear me?” Kylo asks, once Hux is straightening his uniform out, and standing tall, “Do you understand?”_

_Hux shuts his eyes, gathering himself, listening carefully._

_“When you need me, the Force **will** lead me to you. I will never really be gone from you, Hux. I swear it. We will meet again.”_

_Hux thinks of how his droid forgot him, how his mother abandoned him, how his father shunned him, how his brother put him in an impossible trial, and disappeared in death. He thinks of all the friends he never managed to make at school – the only person that’s never left him is Phasma. And she is a different being – something all too different from Kylo to even be compared._

_Trusting Kylo to come back…_

_Hux is quiet for a beat, still wondering if maybe he can run away with Kylo, and never return. Leave this life behind for a new one. A new one he can build with Kylo, somewhere._

_If Kylo asked him now, he’d do it. He’d leave everything, **everything** behind, and start all over somewhere new. So long as he’d have Kylo, he’d be content. More than content._

_“Do you believe me?”_

_“I do,” Hux answers readily, opening his eyes to Kylo again, taking a leap of faith he’s never taken before, “I trust you.”_

**_If I don’t leave right now, I never will_** _, Hux knows._

_Without allowing for another kiss, Hux opens the pod door, and looks back at Kylo._

_“Please, be safe, Kylo, and may the Force be with you.”_

_Kylo smiles tragically back at him, and replies, “take care of yourself, Hux, and may the Force be with you as well.”_

_Hux looks at him a moment longer, dedicating this moment to memory – the way Kylo’s dark eyes shimmer, the way his hair shines, and his lips are so dark, and plush. He memorizes the way it feels. How all the galaxy has come down to the size of the space between himself, and Kylo. He memorizes all of the pain, and all of the beauty condensed in this fleeting moment._

_When he is sure he is about to cry, he turns, and steps off the pod, back out onto the hangar. He turns again, and watches Kylo. He walks backwards for a while, like Kylo is a holy structure he can’t turn his back to, maintaining that eye-contact, wanting for more, waiting for Kylo to call him back, and tell him they can leave together, and never look back._

_That can’t happen, though, and it doesn’t._

_Eventually, Hux has to turn around, and when he does, he hurries to the bridge, and Kylo shuts the pod._

_Hux can’t stand to see it take off. He tries his best to look angry instead of devastated, and as he storms back into the ship, trying hard to ignore the sound of Kylo’s travel pod taking off, he hears Phasma call after him. He ignores her too, knowing she will follow him, and once they find an empty conference room, he lets his back hit one of the walls, and he slides down, holding his head in his hands._

_Phasma shuts the door behind her._

_“Hux – what the Hells just happened – what –"_

_She stops speaking, because she can hear him crying into his hands._

_He’s all pain now, his pride is gone, trapped somewhere in that pod with Kylo Ren, and when he looks at Phasma, eyes shining and wet, face hot and red, he says lowly, “you know the moment I truly knew I was fucked?”_

_Phasma’s brow furrows with worry._

_Hux sniffles, laughs sardonically, and says, “the same second I was scared to die at the gala. I was scared, Ziare. Of death. The release of all fears. A fool’s fear. He’s made a fool of me.”_

_Her own eyes water, and it must be on his behalf, and he’s sorry he’s scattering his agony all over the place like a child who leaves a trail of their mess behind. He doesn’t mean for it to spread, but the pain is too big to be contained in his body alone. Even he knows that._

_“And I’m scared now, too,” he tells her, “He might come back, and… I can’t die, Ziare. I can’t die before I see him again.”_

_“Why?” she asks cautiously._

_He leans his head back against the wall, his tears falling down his face, and off his jaw._

_“I need to tell him my name.”_


	19. Chapter 19

_Work._

_Work, work, glorious, infinite work. It never ends. That's why it's perfect._

_It is the most perfect distraction from heartache, right? Hux tends to think so. Or he would, if he had time to think about anything other than inboxes, deadlines, and missiles._

_He dives headfirst into all of his inboxes, drinks dark caf through the entire work cycle, and **doesn’t stop moving** for **three standard weeks**. _

_Over those three weeks, he gets somewhere around nine, or ten hours of sleep. He grows paler than what is normal for him, and he gradually loses his appetite, but even when he tries to sleep, he only turns around restlessly, frustrated with his body, and mind._

_It’s not long before he starts having hallucinations again, and when he confides in Phasma about seeing Brendol in his room while he’s been working on the missiles, she finds him off his guard, sneaks up on him while he’s going over blueprints in his room, and shoves some sort of syringe in his neck._

_He’s positively betrayed for a quick second, then feels blissful serenity he could kiss her for, and then has no memory after that._

_When he wakes again, he is in bed, properly dressed down, Millicent is curled up on the pillow next to him, and he feels superbly rested._

_He sits himself up on his elbow, and sees Phasma working at his desk, and Officer Vitaan seated next to her._

_“Greetings, ladies,” Hux mumbles with confusion._

_Phasma looks up from her holopad, and says, “before you ask, the Commandant, and the crew are under the impression you’ve taken ill. You’ve been unconscious for seventy-three standard hours without interruption, though I confess I don't understand how. You are still scheduled to be off-planet for your meeting with Chan-na Krin in fifty-two standard hours, nothing has exploded, caught fire, flooded, died, or otherwise met some catastrophic end while you’ve been unconscious, and the only other being that knows you drove yourself to a near psychotic break through deprivation of basic needs is Officer Vitaan here.”_

_Officer Vitaan waves at him awkwardly from her seat, and says apologetically, “greetings, sir. I like your cat.”_

_Hux sits all the way up, rubbing his eyes, and forehead, “you sedated me?”_

_“As you might say, I did what had to be done,” Phasma answers, putting the holopad down completely to look at Hux, “You were muttering to yourself, jumping away from things that weren’t there, and having full blown auditory, visual, olfactory, and tactile hallucinations. You need sleep, Hux. That’s a non-negotiable. No matter how screwed up you are, you deserve sleep. And you need it for your head’s sake.”_

_“Was I really doing all that?” Hux asks honestly, “I… I didn’t notice.”_

_“Of course you didn’t,” Phasma replies patiently, “You never see yourself slipping. It’s why you need me around. And since I couldn’t leave you unobserved, Officer Vitaan here has become well-acquainted with Millicent, and your annoying ability to shout orders in your sleep.”_

_Officer Vitaan looks down at her lap to avoid laughing, and Hux sighs deeply before falling backward into his sheets again._

_“How many inboxes do I have?”_

_“Eighty-two,” Phasma answers._

_Already irritated, Hux groans, and rolls over, turning his back to the women in his room. He thinks he hears Officer Vitaan laugh quietly to herself._

_“No, no, no – now is not the time for you to admit you need rest,” Phasma scolds, “You got your rest, now it’s back to work.”_

_“I don’t **want** to talk to the engineers,” Hux complains childishly, “I will put down a thousand credits that at least half of those inboxes are from the engineers. They are, aren’t they.”_

_Phasma glances down at the holopad, scrolls down a little, and says dispassionately, “well, they’re your problem now.”_

_Groaning in misery again, Hux covers himself with his blanket, and only shows enough of his head so that he can watch Millicent stretch languidly, and blink at him._

_That’s where Ren left a warm imprint when he left._

_He misses Ren._

**_I’m awake for less than five minutes, and I already need to be sedated again_** _, Hux chides himself, feeling pathetic._

_“Fine,” he says, admitting defeat, knowing he needs the distraction of work, or he may never leave his bed again, “Fine, I’ll get up.”_

_And he does – he washes, shaves, dresses, eats something that’s mostly vitamin supplements (Phasma watches him expectantly the entire time), takes back his personal holopad, and gets back to work._

_When he’s exiting his quarters with Officer Vitaan and Phasma, he looks to Officer Vitaan, and initiates, “you will be turning twenty standard years old very soon, Officer Vitaan, correct?”_

_She seems surprised, “yes, sir. In two standard weeks, sir.”_

_“Plans to celebrate with Officer Gillash, I presume?” Hux asks conversationally._

_Officer Vitaan’s face turns dark magenta, and she gesticulates vaguely while saying, “oh – uhm, yes, I do – not just, I mean not_ **just** _Jard – Officer Gillash. Sir. Uhm. A few – a few of my old classmates as well. Uhm. Is that… alright, sir?”_

_“Alright?” Hux parrots, “More than. Remind me the day of – I’m bound to get my head wrapped up in these inboxes, and meetings, and I’m loathe to admit it, but I am not well known for remembering personally important dates.”_

_“Important, sir?” Officer Vitaan asks bashfully._

_He allows his expression to be calm and gentle, as Ren would likely want it._

_He can’t bring himself to smile – he hasn’t been able to smile since Ren left, but he comes close to it._

_He says to her, “Ren will be terribly heartbroken when he realizes he wasn’t here for it. What is important to Ren is important to me, and he would have a personal interest in your birthday if he were here. I am acting in his interest. Do not allow that to distract you, however, from the respect that also comes from me – you are a bright, talented Officer I am proud to have aboard_ **Aurora** _. Just remind me when the day comes, so that I can arrange something special for the occasion.”_

_Officer Vitaan nods like a bobble-head, and Hux nearly does smile at that. Her excitement, and childlike wonder, is a thing to envy._

_“And, I forgot to ask,” Hux starts before parting ways, “- would it be alright by you if I called you by your first name, Officer Vitaan? As Ren does?”_

_Hux doesn’t have any real desire to grow close to Officer Vitaan, but her presence is almost like having Ren there. Like a sibling or daughter left behind._

_“Sir, **absolutely** , sir, yes –"_

_“Very good,” he tells her, “I will see you, and Phasma, soon. Put in a good work cycle, Nali. Perhaps, if I’m not inundated with work, we can spar later.”_

_Nali professes how much she would love that, and Phasma drags the alien girl away before she can start in on what would undoubtedly be a loud, tangential worshipping of Hux, and all his military prowess._

_Contrary to popular belief, Hux doesn’t actively dislike Nali. He doesn’t quite see why Ren is so attached to her, though – she seems overly emotional, awkward at times, as if missing social cues, immensely sensitive, cloying for affection, quicker to adoration and anger (somehow simultaneously), prone to bouts of hysteria and idol worship, saying she's sensitive is an understatement, she's in need of constant validation, and constant reassurance…_

_Hux rolls his eyes as he walks down the corridor, pulling up his inbox._

**_She is just like him_** _, Hux thinks to himself with some humor, his ears tingling._

_He spends a minute or two mooning over the remembrance of Ren, then he gets back to work._

_Engineers, the Commandant, Financing, Insurance, Engineers, the Commandant, Financing, Insurance, Engineers, the Commandant, Financing, Insurance, Engineers, and on, and on, forever, and ever, Amen._

_All Hux does is work – he still barely eats, even under supervision, his migraines come often, and usually when he least needs them, and his anxiety reaches a type of peak when he finally has to see Krin, in person._

_Alone in her private home on Coyerti, in the Mid Rim, she propositions him, as he knew she would._

 

_Before all that happened with Ren happened, he'd have had this entire exchange planned out. He would have very simply put himself in a very uncomfortable situation, for what he_ _considered the greater good. Now, though... Hux isn't sure what to do. Denying her seems the only option, and not only because he genuinely does not want to sleep with her._

 

_She’s subtle about it at first, being coy, all while trying to blackmail him, and with no deal in writing, he’s unsure what to do next._

 

_He stands from her cushy office chair, ignores the way she leans on her desk toward him, offering a large expanse of skin to show, and quickly formulates a plan._

_“I can’t imagine what you mean.”_

_“You know what I want,” she teases him, and he feels an unpleasant chill run up his spine._

_He remembers how, on-sight, Ren had hated her – he wonders now if Ren was feeling jealous at the gala. He almost smiles to himself at the thought. He would be flattered, if that was what had happened - if that is, in fact, the case._

 

_He likes the idea of Ren feeling overly possessive over him, getting jealous, throwing fits over him - making him feeling absurdly important to the most dangerous man the galaxy very barely confines._

_“I’m afraid I can’t indulge you,” Hux replies, turning to face her, “I’m… engaged.”_

_She sits up in her chair, looking outraged, “ **engaged**? To **marry**?"_

 

_"Is there another type of engaged?" Hux asks rhetorically._

 

_"To who?" she demands to know, "Since when?_

_Hux can smell made up blossoms, feel a light breeze, see the shimmer of gold in the black of Ren’s robes. He can hear Ren’s voice telling him that his eyes are ‘breathtaking,' he can feel the cool wash of starlight over him, hear the rustle of vines on marble. He hangs on to that feeling for as long as he can, steels himself, and trudges on._

_With a deep intake, he says, “that is none of the galaxy’s business. I’m sure you can understand why I've tried to keep my personal affairs away from public scrutiny – what with the political spotlight on me as of late, I can’t risk danger to my betrothed.”_

_Krin still looks doubtful._

_“I never pegged you for the monogamous type,” she says, suspicion laced in her voice._

_“My loyalties are hard-earned,” Hux responds coolly, “I can assure you, there is no one in the galaxy more deserving of my affections.”_

_“I envy her,” Krin states eerily, with a sneer._

_All Hux can see in his mind's eye, is shining black hair, and expressive, luminous, impossibly deep eyes._

**_You should be envious_** _, Hux rightfully thinks to himself, **Ren’s beauty is the make of poets. Yours is commonplace, and I’m uninterested in it. I’m a man of rarer, finer tastes.**_

****

_“I envy her enough to kill her,” Krin tells him, looking at her nails, barely concealing her disdain, “Would that solve our issue here?”_

_Without meaning to, Hux laughs at her, and Krin shoots him a dirty look._

 

_He smoothes down the front of his uniform shirt, coughing out the rest of his laugh to try and conceal it, and he straightens his back, looking at her again, a dark satisfaction simmering in his chest._

 

 _“I’m sorry, truly, I don’t mean to laugh – it’s just... you would never come close to hurting my fiancé. Do you think I would choose someone who could not be matched against in me in a fight? Even if you_ **could** _kill my fiancé, it would be an act unforgiveable. You might think killing my fiancé would leave me free to your…_ **wiles** _, but it would only present a new problem. Seeing that I would kill you without a moment’s hesitation for such a transgression against me. This engagement is not arranged, you see – my fiancé is my one and only, my soulmate, and there is nothing you can say or do that will undo that, or somehow convince me to abandon the wonder I've found, and claimed. I marry, and soon, for no less than the greatest adoration this galaxy could know. You will not proposition me again, and you will not level threats against the one I'm promised to wed. Do we have an understanding here?”_

_Kris is horrendously offended, claims she never 'propositioned,' him, and she all but physically pushes Hux out of her house – no funding will come from the Krin family, then. Hux dreads telling the Commandant, but he’s almost giddy with relief when he’s back in his travel pod._

 

_He’s glad to be done with Krin, and he feels a childlike excitement at the thought of talking about Ren as his fiancé._

_He wonders about telling Ren that story, whenever they happen to be reunited._

**_“While you were gone, Krin propositioned me, and you’re my fiancé now, so you better start thinking about what star you’ll condense into the crown of a ring. I talked you up quite a bit.”_ **

_He hopes Ren will like that story._

_He hopes, too, that Ren will express jealousy over him._

 

_For just that to happen, Hux decides that he will draw the story out when he tells it to Ren, just to see Ren get frustrated. He wonders if Ren would make for a good, spontaneous lover – if in a fit of possessiveness and jealousy, he might kill a woman like Krin, or use the Force to drag Hux into his arms, and kiss him senseless, and lay claim to him._

_That’s a daydream he gets lost in for a good, long while._

_The Commandant is **furious** upon his return, but doesn’t waste too much time yelling at Hux about it – he goes to secure funds somewhere else. Somewhere where Hux “can’t fuck everything up with asinine prudishness.” Hux is rather glad to wash his hands of the whole situation, though. He doesn’t mind the verbal lashing he gets. Let the Commandant be mad, he supposes – Hux is more than capable of killing that man, now that he’s grown, now that he knows he's more than a weed growing in the Life Garden. Now that he knows he's worth something._

 

_The Commandant is all bark and no bite as of recent, anyway. He is just another old man with a temper - Hux has met an infinite supply of men like that, so why should he fear this one any more than the others? And even if he couldn’t kill his father, Ren would do it for him._

 

_He is sure of that._

 

_He’d just need to politely ask, say something like, 'Ren, my good man, would you please strike my father down for me,' and Ren would say something like, ‘you needn’t ask – just tell me what you want, and you will have it,’ and Hux would get lost in the fantasy of that, too. Of having it all. Of having Ren, and freedom, and everything he’s ever really wanted._

_Later in that standard week, he spars with Nali, teaches her more about how to take advantage of being the shorter opponent in a fight, and when she swipes his feet during sparring, he lands on his arse with a proud smile at her, and Phasma openly laughs and applauds. Nali begins to have a sort of schedule with the two of them, taking to having meals with them, sparring with the both of them after the work cycle, and establishing personal rapport – Hux expresses interest in her upbringing, and her home world. She is glad to indulge him._

_She is very shy to answer questions about Officer Gillash. It’s nauseating how much they care for one another, but Hux can hardly mock her for it. If anyone could see the inside of his head when he thinks of Ren, he’d never live it down._

_Nali finds her way into his daily routine, and Haas, as well, doesn’t leave him alone – Hux doesn’t find it bothers him much, though. Haas is respectful, diligent, and basically willing to do whatever Hux wants him to; a protégé he may not be suited for, but a lapdog he can certainly make._

_When he sends Haas to acquire cigars from under Phasma’s nose, he’s some small percentage certain Haas will die in his attempt – Phasma can smell those things from a five light years away. The task is an almost-guaranteed suicide mission. Haas still somehow manages to get them for him, though. And Hux is thankful._

_He allows Haas to flirt with him; doesn’t put his foot down about it being inappropriate, or unwanted – it’s harmless, really. Hux has no intention of using Haas, or fulfilling any of the boy’s fantasies, so he lets Haas’s idol worship and want continue on._

_When they’re not at work together, they spar, and they talk – Haas asks him questions about what the Academy was like during its earliest years – when Hux attended – he asks about Hux’s time in the infantry, his most preferred inventions, battles, and weapons._

_Strangely enough, Hux finds himself grateful to Haas. Haas helps to keep his mind off Ren, and he shows his gratitude by clapping Haas on the shoulder after a good spar, or calling Haas ‘Naos,’ after he’s divulged some personal information. The way that boy turns pink at the sound of his name from his most beloved General is the exact ego boost Hux needs to keep his head on straight._

_When he can, Hux takes time to meditate. He applies pressure to his breastbone at the vagus nerve, he plays Theta and Delta waves from his holopad, he counts his breaths as Ren taught him, and occasionally – very, **very** occasionally – he’ll be able to find himself in that safe space he built in his head. The one that looks like their illusion. The place Ren is supposed to be able to communicate with him in._

_He never feels anything reaching back for him._

_Some standard months pass just like this, and Hux loses his footing. He spends the majority of his time engineering these missiles he’s been working on for what seems like an eternity, he fails, and fails, and **fails** at meditation, just as he did when he was young and first grasping for control. _

_He draws Ren, and only Ren, whenever he finds his hand wandering to pencil and paper, he spars, and loses more than he wins, and he drinks alone in his quarters when he isn’t sleeping. He can hardly eat, his head hurts more often than not, and he’s tired in a different way than just his body. His mind is tired. He feels rundown. He feels like giving up hope._

**_Perhaps Ren will arrive, and disappear from my life just as abruptly as mother did._ **

_Every time that thought bubbles up inside Hux’s skull, he tries to smother it – tries to convince himself that just because the meditation has failed, just because he hasn’t heard anything from Ren, doesn’t mean he should lose faith. There is still time. There is still time to hope that Ren will return. Ren promised to, after all – he made a vow to. And Hux trusts Ren’s vows. He trusts **Ren**._

_One sleep cycle Hux can’t actually sleep through, he trades in his whiskey to spar with Haas. Haas doesn’t seem to be a sound sleeper either, and he’s honored to fight with Hux no matter the hour. Hux’s focus is gone, though – his body has endured too much stress, anxiety, wakefulness, starvation, pain, and crippling sadness to fight. He’s clumsy, his focus is just gone,and Haas seems worried about him – having sparred with Hux before, he can see clearly that something is very wrong._

_Hux brushes off Haas’s concerns, tells the boy that he just needs rest. He’s fine, stop worrying, and he storms out of the training room without much more warning._

_Truly, he intends to go to his room and mope, but he somehow finds himself standing outside of Ren’s quarters with no recollection of how he got there._

 

_He pulls out his holopad, and like it’s nothing at all, overrides the security system protecting Ren's rooms, and breaks in. He turns the lights up a little, and sees the room is an absolute disaster. It looks like Ren slashed it apart with his lightsaber at some point, and Hux swears he can still smell Ren in here - his musk, that dark wine smell of his hair, that wild, clean skin smell._

_His eyes water, his chest constricts, and then he sees the closet._

_It’s conspicuously shut closed._

_Amid the disarray of the room, the properly closed closet stands out as strange. Hux approaches it, secretly hoping there will be some of Ren’s robes forgotten in there that he can hoard, but that’s not what he finds._

_With a heart beating too hard, he takes his own, lost greatcoat from the hanger hidden beyond the door, and brings it up to his nose – it smells like ash, snow, his own cologne, blood, and Kylo Ren._

 

_He wonders if Ren wore it. He wonders what it means – he has been looking for this meaningless fucking greatcoat for almost a standard year, and Ren had it all along - and Ren **knew**  Hux had been looking for it everywhere, Ren knew Hux wanted the greatcoat back, and he had it all along, and said nothing, and Hux doesn’t know **what it means**._

 

**Why** _had Ren kept it? How_ **long** _had Ren had it? Had Ren kept it from Starkiller? Had he stolen it from the Med bay? And if he had, why? Why would he do that? What does it mean? What does the greatcoat_ **mean** _to Ren, and, if there's a coherent answer to that question, what in the stars should_ **that** _mean to_ **Hux** _?_

_Breathing becomes a difficulty, his stomach twists up uncomfortably, and lightning strikes through his body in a rage. He feels like he's back at the start - back to not knowing who, or what, Kylo Ren is, or why Ren so likes tormenting him, taking his things, breaking his things, stealing from him - stealing time, or work, or people, or coats. It's a sick joke - finding his greatcoat here. That's what it feels like, anyway._

 

_He kicks the wall with his fitted, steel-toed boots, pushes the closet over, flips over the already damaged desk table, finds himself panting, and crying, like he once did when he was ten standard years old, and his favorite droid had forgotten him, and the feeling of being lost in all that Ren is, and does, surrounds him._

_Is that what’s happening now? Has his favored droid forgotten him? Will he destroy another bedroom, will someone come and slap him hard across the face to knock some sense into him? Will he never have that companionship again? Will it all have been a fleeting illusion? Was Ren even real?_

_He muffles a scream into the collar of his greatcoat, and sinks down to the floor. His face is wet with perspiration, and tears, and he’s too warm, might be fevered._

_“Stars, you **idiot**!” Hux shouts up at the ceiling, nothing but love like thorns in his heart, “Can’t you feel it somehow?! You told me you’d feel it if I needed you! Can’t you… can’t you feel me? Through the Force, or some such nonsense? Can you not feel how I need you now? Why don’t you **answer** me? Why do I constantly feel like I’m shouting into a void!? Kylo!”_

_Burying his face in his once-lost greatcoat again, he cries into it, muttering over, and over, “Kylo, you great menace. You’ve left me, and my ship in fucking ruins. Can’t you feel it? How much I need you? Any sign at all that you - we - anything, any of it at all, was real? Why can’t you hear me anymore?”_

_He blinks to shed some of the teardrops stuck between his lashes. He laughs darkly at himself, looking down at the greatcoat in his arms, and he wonders, “…stars… I’m pathetic, aren’t I?”_

_As if to answer him, his holopad lights up._

_He’s needed by Supreme Leader Snoke._

_He sends a quick inbox to Phasma, and she meets him in his quarters. He showers, and readies himself for an audience with Supreme Leader. He tells her about the greatcoat, and asks her what she thinks that could mean, that Ren had stolen it, and kept it for all that time. She answers him simply that it’s just further proof Ren is as bizarre, and unhelpful as she always knew him to be. Believing it must be more than that, Hux rolls his eyes at Phasma, and sarcastically thanks her for her insight._

_Knowing how fearful he is of Supreme Leader Snoke, Phasma stays close behind, and remains in the hall when he goes in for his audience._

_Supreme Leader Snoke flickers into being on his great throne, and he looks down at Hux with an unreadable expression._

_“General Hux.”_

_“Supreme Leader,” Hux greets, bowing._

_“You have done well,” Supreme Leader Snoke tells him, “The Rebellion will not foresee the missile attack. They are masterfully crafted, cloaked well, and designed to perfection. The destruction they will bring will be legendary. Well done.”_

_Stiltedly, Hux thanks him, and bites back the urge to ask after Ren._

_“That’s not why I called you in, however.”_

_With concern, Hux’s brow creases, and at his feet a black box appears. He looks up, and asks, “…is this an illusion?”_

_Supreme Leader Snoke smirks at him, looking monstrous, and proud at the same time, “no, though that hypothesis is worth some credit. When one is strong with the Force as I am, they can physically transport items through space-time. I have transferred that box to you through several standard days of meditation. It is very much real. It is your reward.”_

_Still hesitant, Hux takes up the box, and opens it slowly._

_All that sits there is a golden pendant meant to be worn on the chest, and a shining, thin royal band to be worn around the head. Hux’s heart starts racing, and he could control it, but he doesn’t want to._

_“I see you are pleased,” Supreme Leader Snoke notes gladly, “In the next standard year, we will need this symbol of royalty back. It empowers the Order, and if I’m not mistaken, this is what you have wanted. By the next standard year, you will find yourself ruling the galaxy from a Core planet. It is never too early to get yourself fitted for some white robes, General.”_

_With wide eyes glowing, Hux looks up at Supreme Leader Snoke, exuding gratitude, and disbelief. He snaps the box closed, and looks down at it in wonderment._

_“I… you bypassed my father for this seat of power?”_

_“Yes, and I was all too glad to. You are young, and have many standard decades still, to dedicate to the rule, and Order. Your father is a good leader, but not so nearly as you have become.”_

_That’s a difficult compliment to understand, to conceive of, but he accepts it, because he desperately wants it to be true._

_“I… I cannot express my gratitude for the enormity that it is, Supreme Leader.”_

_“I am pleased to hear that, General,” Supreme Leader Snoke begins, “Lord Kylo Ren thought it a better reward to kill your father, for you. A gift, and task he had personally wanted to perform for you, but I thought this crown much more befitting.”_

_Hux’s brows pull together, “…uhm… a reward? For the missiles?”_

_“No, General,” Supreme Leader Snoke laughs, “Certainly not. The missiles are very well done, but no missile could earn you that crown. No, General. I am rewarding you as Lord Kylo Ren wanted me to, for the power you have given him.”_

_“Power?” Hux asks, feeling lost – like he’s the only one in the galaxy not in on a joke._

_“You know Lord Kylo Ren is an obsessive creature,” Supreme Leader Snoke starts casually, “He came to me while he was aboard **Aurora** , still healing from Starkiller, and he professed his interest in you. He could not rejoin the Knights of Ren, and so he busied his time healing with setting you as his challenge. That drive you gave him, to improve upon himself, is what allowed him to expand his powers, and heal enough that he could come train again. He is more powerful than ever. He wanted to learn discipline, and patience, from you, and it would seem that you succeeded in giving him those tools.”_

_Hux’s hands start to shake, and his heart rate declines quickly._

_“Forgive my ignorance, Supreme Leader, but so that I am not misunderstanding… do you mean to say that Lord Kylo Ren knew I was enhancing his powers, and so… attached himself to me?”_

_“Precisely,” Supreme Leader Snoke responds easily, “Passion is the heart of the Dark side of the Force. His rages, and hatred, were no longer fuel enough. You, as the man of control, and precision you are, presented a challenge he had never overcome before, and he became fixated, as he often does. I could not have foreseen how much your influence would augment his power, though. He is my greatest pupil, and I could not be more grateful to you for your service to him, General.”_

_“All the time he spent here,” Hux mutters, shock taking over his body, “…all the time he spent with me, he was… what? Charging his batteries?”_

_“In a sense,” Supreme Leader Snoke answers._

_And that’s that, it would seem._

_“You don’t believe me,” Supreme Leader Snoke says, more than asks._

_Hux looks up at him, and confesses, “I… I am hesitant to believe he would… use me like that.”_

_“Lord Kylo Ren has trained tirelessly to attain the powers he has. If a dirty Bantha had presented a challenge, he would have used it. I do hope you don’t take it personally, General Hux. He was not interested in using you as a_ **person** _– he was interested in using what you inspired in him, as a pathway to more than he has known before. And, although I can’t disclose precisely how his powers have shifted or grown, I can tell you that your role in making it happen is deserving of that crown.”_

_The tremors are growing more visible, and Hux’s heart has slowed down to twenty-eight beats a minute. Any lower, and he could faint. He looks up blearily at Supreme Leader Snoke, and says, “thank you, Supreme Leader. I will bring greatness to this gold. I swear it.”_

_“I believe you, General,” Snoke tells him, and then he flickers out of existence again._

_Hux’s shaking hands tighten around the box, and he leaves the hall in a rush, zipping past Phasma who follows him back to his quarters._

 

_He drops the box onto the couch in his common space, and quickly approaches the viewport, breathing strangely in an attempt to get his heart rate up._

_He rubs at his forehead, his eyes scrunching closed._

_“What’s in it?” Plasma asks warily._

_“Open it,” Hux suggests._

_When she does, Hux can see the awe in her reflection from the viewport._

_“Hux – **Hux**! You did it! You **did it**!” Phasma exclaims, equally shocked and pleased, “ **Emperor Hux**! The galaxy will kneel for you! It is all you have ever wanted! How are you not flipping your lid? Do you want cake? I will absolutely permit cake for this occasion – in fact, **I** might have some!”_

_She is met with grim silence._

_“…Hux?”_

_“It was a trap.”_

_“The crown?”_

_“Ren.”_

_The air stiffens, and when Phasma thinks Hux will cry, nothing happens._

 

_His body has been slowly dying, his mind has been torn to smithereens, his heart is willfully giving out on him, he’s been made a fool of, he’s been **used** , he’s been **controlled** – and by **Kylo Ren**. _

_The crown is a symbol of power, and control – but what control has Hux ever truly had if it could all be stripped away by a man like Kylo Ren? It means nothing. His dreams of control over his own destiny – they’re slashed through with the hot red of Kylo Ren’s sparking lightsaber._

_He thought he knew what he had, he thought what he had was real – it was all a ploy, though. And Ren dared to accuse Hux of using **him** as a pawn._

_His pain turns to anger, because he refuses to mourn a moment longer. He refuses his own sadness._

 

_His heart starts pumping hard, and when it gets back up to thirty-three beats, he inhales, and exhales deeply, keeping it there. He pulls on the reigns. He will take control back if it’s the last thing he does._

_“No cake,” Hux tells her, clasping his hands over the small of his back, “You’ve been neglecting me. I’ve lost muscle mass. Next cycle at four-hundred hours we will start training again. I need my strength back.”_

_“…Hux… what do you mean, Ren was a trap?”_

_“He used me,” Hux tells her plainly, staring out at some green nebulae far off, “To gain my favor – my high regard – was some sort of… game to him. It was a challenge. He was bored while he was healing, and unable to train with the Knights. He saw an immovable object, and he is an unstoppable force, so, of course, he knew that if he could move me, his power would expand. And, it did. And, then he left.”_

_“That – that doesn't sound right. That doesn't... sound like him... I don't think. Hux, are you sure? I don’t –"_

_“Supreme Leader Snoke told me himself, and frankly, it makes too much sense to brush aside,” Hux interrupts, avoiding his thin reflection in the viewport, “You once told me I hated that I could not control him – I didn’t know him as a person, and so couldn’t hate him as one. I could only hate the idea of him. That he was so outside my power of authority. You were right. And I did what songs, and poets, have always said to do – I did all the things my droid taught me to do, through fairytales. I took a leap of faith. I gambled, I put everything on the table, I played his insipid, impossible game, and in its wake… so strange. So strange how you don’t even know you have some hope left, until that hope is taken from you. I suppose sometimes, you can only see something for the absence it leaves behind when it is stripped from you.”_

_With that, Hux turns around, takes his greatcoat, and goes back out into the hall. Phasma follows him, worried, and asking, “Hux – what are you going to do?”_

_Officers and troopers have started spotting their General, and Captain, and he knows they’re listening. He doesn’t care. Let them hear it._

_“I’m going to get this greatcoat properly cleaned. I want it back. And, while that is done, I want Lord Kylo Ren’s quarters taken apart, and built into a private office for Officer Vitaan. It's unlikely he'll be returning to **Aurora** , anyway, and I’m promoting Officer Vitaan to Second Lieutenant on her birthday, in a few cycles.”_

_“But Hux –"_

_“Don’t worry, Phasma,” Hux assures her, over his shoulder, “I’m promoting you, as well. A few ranks, actually. You deserve it, and who would dare argue with their Emperor?”_

_“ **Hux** ,” Phasma stage-whispers warningly._

_“Colonel Phasma,” Hux tries out, “How does that sound? Maybe I can even get you Brigadier General. Or General, if you like - Emperors can do anything. Why stop there? Grand Marshall. Grand Marshall Phasma. How does that sound? Better? I think it sounds better.”_

_Hux is looking for Haas, headed toward the control bridge where he usually is at this hour, and Phasma manages to call out, “but, Hux – what of Ren?”_

_He halts, turns about-face, and yells in a commanding voice, so that everyone in the vicinity will hear him, “Force user, princely brat, and stray dog ‘Lord’ Kylo Ren will not step foot aboard this ship again so long as I am alive, and in command, or I will level this entire, bloody ship with my voice alone, and that will only be the start! Is that clear to everyone?”_

_Plasma stares at him, and the concern writ across her face hurts him too much, so he looks across the control bridge, at the faces of his young officers. He makes eye-contact with Officer Gillash, and asks sternly, “Kylo Ren is not to be seen on this ship again. Is that understood?”_

_“Yes, sir,” Officer Gillash answers loyally, if a little nervously._

_“Where is Haas?”_

_Haas breaks through a crowd of officers, and comes up to Hux, posture ready, “I’m here, sir. What can I do for you, sir?”_

_“Get this greatcoat back to its former glory. I don’t care how many credits need to be spent, why, or where – I will reimburse you whatever you wind up needing to spend. Just get it done. I want it hanging outside my quarters by the start of the next cycle. Understood?”_

_“Sir, yes, sir,” Haas answers, taking the greatcoat from Hux, and taking off in another direction._

_Hux looks at Phasma, and says, “I need new dog tags as well.”_

_She tilts her head, confused, “how did you manage to lose –"_

_She stops there, because she answers her own question._

_Unsure of how best to comfort him yet, she simply nods, receives the order, and leaves to get it dealt with. She is no doubt plotting how to ease his heartache, but she will be unsuccessful. Hux refuses his own heartache._

 

_Hux spends the rest of the sleep cycle on the control bridge, staring out into space, cultivating hatred, and the numbing focus it provides._

**_I’ll incinerate the old tag_** _, Hux thinks, imaging his name written, and sitting in his desk drawer, **I will only allow for my surname to be on these new tags. And the next chance I get, I’ll kill my father. I, alone, will keep the name. I will have control. And if Kylo Ren ever steps foot on this ship again, he will rue the day.**_

_Strict order is reestablished aboard **Aurora**. _

 

_Hux’s gift of a rank promotion goes over all too well with Nali, and she asks for permission to hug him. He begrudgingly allows for it, and even the sweet, tearful, “thank you, thank you so much,” she whispers into his chest is not enough to move him._

_He sleeps as he’s meant to, he eats what he needs, he exercises as Phasma instructs, he stops smoking, stops drinking, wears his greatcoat like the cape of an Emperor’s robes which he’ll soon know, and he stops wallowing._

 

_Why wallow over something fictional?_

 

_The missiles are just about ready._

_When he trains with Phasma, it is with a fury she’s never seen in him before, and he thrives on it. He stops losing so easily, he puts his dignity back together piece by piece, and every chance he gets to show just how much control he wields – the control over his subordinates, over their livelihoods, and existences – he takes advantage of._

_He kills at least five officers in as many standard weeks for relatively small errors, just for the Hell of it. Just to show them all how meaningless they are to him – how replaceable, how finite, how insignificant they are under his enormous rule._

_The army and crew run sufficiently on the fuel of terror, and that is all Hux has ever **really** wanted, right? To Hells with everything else. He was ever meant to have anything but fear. He's known this. He knows it now more than ever before._

_He couldn’t have respect, he couldn’t have companionship, he couldn’t have love or adoration, but he could have their fear. He pledged to have it as a young man, in the Academy, and grown now, he has it. The fear of all the souls aboard **Aurora** , and soon, all those in the galaxy. _

_It’s four cycles after his own birthday, which he only allows Phasma to spend with him in the privacy of his quarters, drinking with him, and feeding his ego, that he sees a remotely familiar pod traveling toward **Aurora** from the control bridge. He thinks it must belong to one of the engineers working on the missiles outside the ship, and forgets about it. There are other things on his mind - he notices everything, of course, so he sees the pod, he just assumes it belongs to someone working aboard the ship._

_Hux has his comm turned off, because his migraine that cycle has been unforgiving, and that - the turning his comm off - turns out to be a grave mistake. With Phasma beside him, he is looking over the details of the completion of **Black and Gold** , the project name of the missiles, and one of his officers tells him that Haas has been trying to get in touch with him through the comm – someone has boarded **Aurora** , but he didn’t understand Haas’s panicked, garbled voice, so cannot tell Hux who it is that Haas was trying to warn him of._

 

_Hux thinks that, perhaps it's his father. He's the disrespectful type, to arrive unannounced, just to instill something terrible in Hux._

 

_But, without a name, Hux can't be sure who it is that has boarded._

_Glaring venomously, Hux tells that officer to alert him when something actually **important** happens, and goes back to work with Phasma._

 

_The bridge is quiet for the most part, but Phasma_ _turns stiff as a board next to him, not a moment later, and he asks after her._

_“… Phasma? What? What is it?”_

_Hux turns, and like the last time he saw Ren, it’s as if all the space in the galaxy has been narrowed down to the space between them._

 

_Nothing exists outside it._

 

_He swears this must be another hallucination – maybe he’s in another dream where these things happen sometimes._

_He sees Ren put his hand on the hilt of his saber, and the muscles in Hux’s arm twitch towards the dagger he knows is in his boot._

Kylo feels a distinct push.

Hux is pushing him out - he feels Kylo in his mind, in his memories, and he's pushing back.

While Kylo has felt a lifetime pass in Hux’s memories, for Hux, only a few seconds have passed. He’s still crushed against the mirror. He’s still livid and –

 

_Hux feels his face heat up. He glances in a few directions, minding his present officers, and then walks across the bridge. Phasma does not follow him. Hux knows this is because if she gets close enough to Ren, she **will** try to kill him._

_Disgusted that Ren has invited himself back on **Aurora** , thinking he will kill everyone in security in the hangars – **how useless can they be?** – and suddenly battered with a tidal wave of feeling he did not expect, he manages to grind out through his teeth, “ **what** are you doing here?”_

_“I told you I would return,” Ren answers simply._

_The specific sound of that vocoder sets a fire in Hux’s chest. He hates it. He hates the vocoder, he hates Ren, he hates everything. He **hates**._

_“Yes, you told me a lot of things, didn’t you,” Hux mutters bitterly, “I’m busy. Get off the bridge. Ask one of the troopers for quarters. I have nothing prepared for you, seeing as I **had no idea** you were boarding.”_

**_Can I not stay with you in your quarters?_ **

**_ Get out of my head, Ren. _ **

_Before, Hux could never really tell when Ren was in his head, but in that moment, he absolutely feels Ren withdraw. He recoils, actually. It’s rewarding._

_“Lord Kylo Ren,” Officer Gillash says softly._

_Ren looks off to where Officer Gillash is seated. He’s been promoted too, since Ren left. If rumors among the crew are to be believed, he has as well been promoted to Nali’s official “boyfriend.” Hux would be pleased for them both, if he could feel anything at all._

_“We were under the impression you were never returning.”_

_“What gave you such an impression?”_

_“General Hux said –"_

_“ **Silence** , Officer Gillash.”_

_Knowing what happens to officers that personally offend General Hux nowadays, Officer Gillash wisely shuts his mouth before his title is even fully announced._

_Ren turns his head back to Hux, and tilts it in confusion._

_“I need to speak with you. Privately.”_

**_No. You’ve lost that privilege._ **

_“Well, I’m sorry to report that some of us have schedules aboard this ship and I am-"_

_“Almost off work,” Ren intercepts, “I have not forgotten your work cycle. When can I have your audience?”_

**_Why would you remember such a meaningless thing?_ **

_Hux imagines he feels a lot like how victims of a tsunami feel – the big wave is crashing over them, racing toward them, and there is nothing to be done for it. It’s just this gigantic, impossibly heavy force coming for him, like a tracked animal._

_The anxiety for survival remains, and he feels that anxiety, he feels fury too – the fury that this tragedy is happening at all can drive some people to stubbornly stay put, or make them move faster than should be possible. But more than anything, Hux feels the devastation. The ruination, the carnage, the loss, the decimation, and the terrifying unavoidability of it all._

_Looking at Ren is like looking Death in the face._

_He comes up with a lie._

_“There is work I have to see to once I’m off the clock. Contact Haas to schedule a meeting.”_

_“Hux, what are –"_

_He feels that sensation of long ago – when Ori put his hand on his shoulder, and he felt icy spiders trickle out from beneath his palm. The immediate revulsion, the rage – it comes to him in a flash._

_“That is **General** Hux to you, you **ingrate** ,” Hux snaps, shaking, and sounding more like this father than he ever has._

_Hux swears he hears his mother gasp, he swears he can feel Brendol shaking his head in worry and disappointment, and he swears he can sense the child in him, shriveling, and cowering – betrayed, and injured beyond repair by just those few words._

Kylo feels pushed again. Hux is actively trying to dislodge Kylo from his mind.

_Hux saves Nali before her attacker can harm her beyond ripping her uniform – he sees D’Jac when he kills that stormtrooper, and he treats Nali with care he was never afforded._

_He only leaves her in peace when Officer Gillash arrives at her door, and offers his protection, and comfort._

_Ren challenges him, and he hates Ren, he **hates** Ren, he hates the Force, he hates the man, he hates the gall Ren has to challenge him in front of his subordinates as he has, and if Ren wants a fight, by the stars, he will get one._

_When Ren kisses him, he thinks of sirens, and when he drags Ren’s face down to keep kissing him, he imagines that he’s drowning Ren._

_Kicking Ren while he’s down is not a gentleman’s fight, but Hux isn’t feeling quite like a gentleman._

_When his back hits the mirror and breaks it, he thinks clearly to himself, **that’s right, Kylo Ren. Prove me right. Show me the monster you really are. I dare you.**_

Kylo doesn’t feel the first punch to his jaw, the second, or the third.

Kylo only feels the pain again when Hux strikes him in the throat with a tight, bloody-knuckled fist.

He loses his breath as he stumbles backward, holding his throat.

Everything he has ever made Hux feel has been attached to fear.

That is a bitter pill to swallow.

From Hux having the fear of caring about Kylo as a friend, and relying on him, to the fear of Kylo’s powers, and Kylo using his powers to heal him, fear of Kylo’s unpredictability, unsure of whether or not to trust Kylo, the fear that he began to trust Kylo without meaning to.

Then a sudden fear of death that has not been there for decades, reignited with the fear that he feels too strongly for Kylo to lose Kylo; his fear of death, Kylo’s death, now trumps all other fears, and keeps him in constant torture, particularly in Kylo’s absence. Fearing the power Kylo has over him without use of the Force, fear that Kylo will not reciprocate - everything related to Kylo based in fear.

“How much did you see?” Hux asks furiously, his leg flying through the air, aimed for Kylo’s head.

Kylo ducks, unable to answer yet, his throat closed up.

“How much _did you see_ , you _imbecile_!” Hux shouts, hunting forward as Kylo moves back defensively.

By the look in Hux’s eyes, Hux already knows. Hux knows that Kylo has seen everything.

“You know,” Kylo rasps.

Hux’s eyes are somewhat panicked, “…no. How – how much did you see?”

Kylo coughs violently, and is rather sure he swallows some blood before starting in again, “I saw enough to know your fears, and to see that I am your greatest one. _Why_ do you fear me so much? What have I ever done but serve you?”

Hux’s eyes widen incredulously, “you have given me _countless_ reasons to fear you! How can you even _ask that_?! What is worse, you have made me fear death!”

Kylo stops moving, and so does Hux. Hux is clearly dizzy, and his head is throbbing, and burning from the intrusion.

Hux holds his forehead, his eyes shut closed so tightly it looks like it hurts. He says mostly to himself, “so _foolish_! So _useless_! To be troubled with the _relief of all troubles_! But you cause this nonsensical fear, you stupid animal…”

Hux glares up at Kylo from under his lashes, “it is _your_ fault! And stop pretending like you don’t know that _I know_! Supreme Leader Snoke _told me_! Supreme Leader Snoke told me what I am to you! That I was just a gateway to more power! All I have ever been to you is a stepping stone to more! You always intended to leave me here!”

“You know that isn’t true – you know it, Hux,” Kylo defends, his heart hammering, and breaking, “He didn’t lie – he – that is how it started out. That’s true, it’s true – you made me feel powerful at a time that felt powerless, and it healed me, it made me stronger – of course I pursued that, and you would’ve done the same!”

“Well, you’ve certainly got no more Angels to trade, so what will it be this time, Kylo Ren?” Hux asks venomously, “What will you use to fool me of your sincerity next?”

“I am being sincere, Hux!” Kylo argues, weak from having unwrapped Hux’s mind, and his face battered from Hux’s hands as well, “What will make you believe me?”

“You really are just like your illusions, Ren,” Hux answers, wiping blood and sweat onto his shirt, “You interact with all my senses – you trick me into believing you’re real, that anything you create outside or inside me is real, but it’s all just _you_! Just you stroking your own massive ego! And I _will not_ be a prisoner again! I will not be beholden to _any man_ , not my father, not any First Order military, and certainly not _to you_! You have made a fool of me for the _last time_!”

Kylo goes to say something, but Hux cuts him off, eyes icy, hand shaking with rage, “my heart is wild, and my bones are steam – and I could kill you with my bare hands if I were free.”

This silences Kylo.

To remember how peaceful, how sweet those words were when Hux first sang them to him – and now, they’re tainted with darkness, and anger. The words are heavy with meaning, and a pain he cannot drain from Hux. He looks at Hux, glances toward the broken mirrors, and sees there’s blood in the spider-webbed crack made from the impact of Hux’s back.

“You’re hurt,” Kylo mutters absurdly, “…let me heal you.”

He very carefully does not use the words “I can stop the pain.” He doesn’t think he can ever again.

“Fuck off, Ren. You got what you wanted.”

With that, Hux turns on his heel, and storms away.

Kylo stares at his scattered reflection for a few beats, and finds his resolve.

He _needs_ Hux. He cherishes Hux, and Hux doesn’t understand – so he gives chase.

Just as Hux taught him, he will do whatever must be done. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Melanie, does this mean that all of Ren's paranoid thoughts of Hux betraying him were either planted or manifestations of his insecurities??" Yes!  
> "Melanie, Ren really /did/ use Hux just for power in the beginning, but he started having Feelings and he's just a mess of a person!"  
> I know!  
> "Melanie, how is Ren going to fix this masSIVE FUCK UP????"  
> You'll see in Chapter 20! :DDDD
> 
> So yeah, part three will be ending on Chapter 20 and the same day I post the end of part three, the beginning chapter(s) of part four will be posted. I estimate Sunday, but I go through several drafts before posting, so who knows what will happen once I get started on chapter one of part four :P
> 
> Either way, expect the end of part three and the beginning of part four on the same day in just a few days! :3


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a lot to be said here!  
> Okay, so, basically I decided to post the end of part 3 here now because the beginning of part 4 is taking me longer than I predicted and I really wanted to post this! lol  
> Part 4 will start up THIS WEEK. I would recommend subscribing to the series if you wanna get an email alert for when Part 4 starts getting posted. (Based on this week's schedule? I am predicting it could be anywhere between Wednesday and next weekend)
> 
> Now, to thank those of you that continue to support me and encourage me by leaving thoughtful, consistent and lovely reviews; thank you, thank you, thank you to: FemaleSpock, prettycivilian, scarlet_tongue, MsModernity, sunlightonwater (TFA_finn_poe_shipper), technocrat, KaisaSolstys, starlitexdecay, WinterfellsDaughter, oimarvel, nosseka, singersalvageshop, RubyQuinn, bloodandpepper, wrmhle, nullsk, shotgunsue, MissMegh, Keeblo, Buffy1066, GeneralSmol, FantasyTLOU, grace zodiac and darcydent! (I think that is everyone - if you've left consistent reviews and I somehow missed you, let me know in the comments and I'll be sure to add you! <3)
> 
> Also! All of Kylo's flashbacks (to visions he previously had) in this chapter were visions he had in part one, chapter seven, if you wanna cross-reference!
> 
> Chapter Warning: There is EXPLICIT sexual content. VERY EXPLICIT. Like. A LOT. If you're underage, don't get me in trouble. Don't read it, mang. If sex scenes squick or trigger you, you'll want to skip from the line "I've got everything I need right here, don't I?" til... the end, really. There will be a description at the bottom notes for anything important you missed or had to skip over. 
> 
> beautiful incrEDIBLE PORNY ARTWORK BY @wingedicks
> 
> MOST IMPORTANTLY  
> I want to dedicate the finale of Part 3 and this chapter to Lan - not only has Lan graced this series with beautiful artwork, but Lan is also a really sweet person that deserves wonderful things and basically I love Lan. Lan, if you're reading this series still, I hope you enjoy this chapter and know I've been plotting with Lucy to dedicate this to you for a while now! I really hope you're doing well and I hope this brightens your day! ilu!

**_Let me in._ **

**_Get out of my head, Ren!_ **

Kylo stands outside Hux’s private quarters, his fists, and forehead against the shut door, his brow furrowed.

A strange, unpleasant nostalgia washes over him, then.

_Fuck…_

_…what?_

Kylo gives a short laugh, surprised that Hux cares enough to ask, and says out loud, knowing Hux is standing on just the other side of the door, “you’ve made me into my father.”

Kylo wonders if this is what it felt like for Han – always coming home to changed locks, or arguments that went just too far. He wonders if Han made blunders as enormous as his own. He wonders if Han would’ve had the rare gem of sound advice to give to Kylo now, were he here.

_You have no father._

“Don’t say that,” Kylo pleads, eyes watering, and soul feeling heavy.

He can feel Hux moving away now, walking away from the door. Still listening closely.

His heart is aching, and he can’t tell who it aches for the most; Hux, Han, Leia, or himself.

Kylo is rather sure that he only has one chance to redeem himself, and with only one of those people.

He has to try.

He can’t give up now. He feels as if, without Hux, he’ll wither away into nothingness – or he’ll reach some supernova, some singularity, and implode in a spectacular show of destruction, radiation, and pain. Losing Hux will do more than destroy him, and even Kylo is unsure of what that means.

He closes his eyes, the cool steel of Hux’s door aiding the pain all around his face from Hux’s fists. He’s so tired. He’s so desperate.

“If I lose you, Hux… if I’ve lost you, I’ve lost everything.”

_What, because you’re suddenly having an identity crisis, and remembered your birth father?_

“I will never feel this way again.”

_Stop being dramatic._

“You’re not hearing me,” Kylo mutters back, coming to stand straight, facing the door as if he were looking right at Hux.

“It’s true, what you think of me. I’m a monster. I swore to protect you, and I hurt you instead – time, and again. And, I’m bound to hurt you again if you ever found forgiveness for me, too. This is likely for the best – that you shed me like a diseased limb. I have no desire to hurt you, but I will, because it’s all I ever do. We both know this. It's in my nature, to ruin. And you and I also both know I can force this door open whenever I want to. And I’m a monster, so I will. I will look in your eyes as I say what needs to be said, if it kills me.”

_You force your way in here, and it indeed may very well kill you, Ren._

Hux is still talking to him, though. There’s a gradually expiring hope that Kylo might fix this yet. That he might find just the right apology that Hux will hear, and feel – that he might be able to make Angels out of words. Trade those Angels for one more chance.

Kylo lifts his hand, and the door slides open. He walks in, and shuts it behind him. The quarters are dim, Millicent must be hiding somewhere, as Kylo doesn’t see her. All he sees is Hux, bent over his desk, by the viewport. He’s taken his shirt off – his back is hurt from the glass, pinpricks of blood here and there, but no serious wounds.

Looking at the diagonal scar across Hux’s back now feels intimate in a way Kylo is unfamiliar with, now that he knows precisely how Hux acquired it.

Kylo hasn’t slept for many cycles now, he’s malnourished, he’s been paranoid, and stripped of his sanity, deprived of light, and noise for several standard months – he is weak. In more ways than one. He has lost faith, in himself, in his trajectory, and in his abilities. He knows none of this makes up for what he has done to Hux. These are not justifications. They are just explanations.

Hux doesn’t seem inclined to hear explanations, though, and Kylo doesn’t think they’d make much of a difference now, anyway.

With so little energy, his soul in a drought without Hux’s widely coveted affection, his powers are a flickering flame, kept only alive by his need to find closure with Hux. No matter what that might mean.

He lets his eyes fall shut, intakes deeply, spread his arms and hands out, and creates their illusion, spanning it as far is it will go. When he opens his eyes, he looks down, and sees they’re standing on either side of Hux’s pond. He looks down into the water, and sees Hux’s wounded, curved back mirrored back to him.

_A blurry reflection of Hux’s naked back on the surface of comfortably cool water…_

Kylo’s heart jumps, realizing he has seen this in his visions.

His head snaps up, looking at the back of Hux’s freckled neck.

This was his fate all along.

He wonders if he has always been meant to lose Hux.

If he has always been destined to wreck everything he touches.

_You were right from the start. You saw a monster in me that couldn’t be leashed. Are you glad to finally be proven right?_

“Have I impressed you yet?” Kylo asks, loathing himself, “Are you proud of me?”

_“Have I impressed you yet? Are you proud of me?”_

_The sensation of Hux’s eyes on him._

_The cold, small something finally silencing, and the familiar monster withering away._

Unwilling to fully face him, Hux turns his head a little. His hair shines in the artificial sunlight, his lashes look long, and the line from his forehead, to his cheek, to his chin are all backlit by the pastels of the garden Kylo made for him. Kylo’s breath catches somewhere in his throat.

_…a bare neck with light freckles, dark red hair swept back, and shining, a semi-profile, a face just about to turn toward him, and he’s sure the person is about to say his name, but somehow it won’t be his name either._

_This person is about to say his name, but he’s not pressing his lips together to make the “buh” sound of “Ben,” – in fact, Ben can **feel** the person’s tongue clicking the roof of their mouth, like they’re about to say something with a hard “kuh,” sound. _

_He feels the person’s eyes moving along with their head, that’s how he knows they’re turning to purposefully look at him, and he wants to see that person’s eyes – he wants to know what they’re about to call him, what they’re about to say._

_He wants to know._

He wants to know.

Hux looks at him through the corner of his eye, his back still facing Kylo, his expression unreadable.

“Kylo Ren.”

Hux’s lashes flicker as he looks downward, “I’ve known many evils in my life, but none so heartless as yours. I _am_ impressed. Amazed. Astonished, even.”

Kylo rubs at his chest, feeling at the dog tags there; he grasps them as Hux turns fully away from him again.

“I could have used Haas as you used me. He’s also scared of death. So nonsensical...”

That thought trails off, and Kylo gets the sense that Hux’s head is somewhat disorganized from his earlier intrusion. There’s the possibility that Hux’s thoughts are as unclear as his own.

“There are a thousand things I want to say,” Kylo admits, gripping the tags harder, “I have no idea where to start, or how to say them. Give me a starting point. Show me where to begin.”

“I don’t owe you anything – I don’t owe you a command, or a starting point for the things you want to say that you’ll force me to listen to whether I want to hear them or not - which I _don't_.”

“There’s not a single thing you want explained?” Kylo asks, already knowing Hux will view it as a challenge, and find something to ask.

“…I only want to know one thing,” Hux tells him, a dark tone to his voice.

“Anything,” Kylo promises.

“A joke? A challenge? Just… what am I to you? A fool? A stepping stone? A test? An entertainment? A jester? A prank? A power grab?” Hux asks, turning his face just that little bit again, “What am I to you?”

 _Golden_ , Kylo thinks much too loudly, and it’s automatic – he doesn’t even mean to think it, it just happens. He just means it.

**_Stop it._ **

Kylo takes a step forward, and recites, “the code of the Sith is this; ‘peace is a lie, there is only passion. Through passion, I gain strength. Through strength, I gain power. Through power, I gain victory. Through victory, my chains are broken. The Force shall free me.’ That is the way of the Dark side, and it is what I access, and work by, to strengthen my powers in the Dark side of the Force. But that code is not _my_ code. And I am sure Master Snoke did not tell you my code.”

“You’re not answering me,” Hux says warningly, his shoulders rounding up by his red ears, “Why should I give a damn about your code, or the code of the Sith? You were just _using_ me, you were just another –"

“Peace is a lie, there is only General Hux,” Kylo rushes out.

Hux stiffens up even more, if that’s at all possible.

A long inhale through his nose, Kylo finds the energy to continue, “through Hux, I am granted strength. Through the strength Hux grants me, I attain power. With the power Hux grants me, he will see me to victory. Through Hux, my chains will be broken, and I will be free.”

“…stop talking to me like that – in riddles, or prayers, or codes,” Hux tells him stiltedly, “Just tell me. Tell me what I am to you, so I can know where we stand. Tell me what I am to you – plainly. A word. A title. Something so I can close this fucking chapter of my life, and move on.”

“You are a passion –"

“What the _fuck_ does that mean?” Hux demands furiously, his elbows drawing in like he might be holding something to his chest, “A passion can be anything! A passion can fade! A passion is a feeling, an obsession – not a person! So, what is it, Ren? What am I to you?”

“You –"

“Besides an open book, that is – besides something so easily disposable –"

“That’s untrue,” Kylo interrupts, “You are irreplaceable. You are –"

“Go on, Ren! Tell me the truth! _Show_ yourself to me,” Hux hisses viciously, his shoulders still high, “ _Trust_ me, Ren! Tell me what I am to you! The truth!”

The next few seconds that pass, do so with a speed Kylo has never even seen in battle.

This here, though, is an entirely new battleground.

Here, he is lost, and so nearly powerless, and Hux is a man no one wants to make an enemy of, even at the height of their power, and health.

Just as Hux demands to know one more time “what _am I_ to you!?” – he twists around, revealing the dagger he’s been holding to his chest, and he throws it with precision, and purpose.

He raises his arm, slings it back, then forward. The flick of his wrist is so exact, the blade spins, and cuts through the air, cuts through space and time, and Kylo shuts his eyes.

It hurts to know Hux never actually intended to hear Kylo’s answer, but he hears it anyway. The whole ship may have heard it, for how loud it is.

“ ** _Everything_**!”

Whole body tense, his fists clenched tightly, Kylo opens his eyes to find the point of Hux’s dagger frozen less than an inch from the center of his forehead.

He ignores it.

It is not the first time Hux has thought of, or tried, to kill him, and if Kylo continues on as he has, Hux might eventually manage to.

He doesn’t know when he lost his breath, or when his tears started falling. His bruised face is hot with embarrassment, shame, and something like awe.

He didn’t know he had that answer in him, but it’s the truest thing he’s ever said.

It’s cleansing to say it – it’s _cathartic_ , like he’s finally shedding his armor, and being seen for what is underneath.

It’s a revelation, and a vow, and a confession, and worth repeating.

“You are _everything_ to me…”

Hux’s brow curls in confusion, and rejection, “… no, I’m not. You’re a Knight of Ren. You’re their leader, actually. You belong to Supreme Leader. I am barely a blip on the radar of your existence. I mean nothing to you, or you would not have –"

“Is that what it will take?” Kylo asks.

Unsure of what he means, Hux doesn’t reply, just stares warily at Kylo, like he’s an untrained animal. And he is.

Kylo despises that he causes Hux so much fear, but that fear is what has kept Hux alive to this day, and Kylo must pay his respects to it. Without fear, Hux wouldn’t be showing him mercy now, listening to him blather on, and find himself, while he can hardly keep his eyes focused.

“I will denounce my loyalties to Master Snoke for you, if that is what you want,” Kylo begins, projecting his honesty at Hux in waves, watching Hux’s expression shift as he receives Kylo’s feedback, “I will leave the Knights of Ren, I will take a new name. I will find a way – find some way to rid my body of every midi-chlorian, and if you like, you can see it for yourself – you can take my arms, my chest, cut me open, and bleed me dry. Bleed me of every modicum of power I’ve ever had, and I’ll still kneel to you, still serve you with everything I’ve ever been, or will be, and if that doesn’t satisfy you, you can just bleed me.”

Hux’s eyes are wide, and his mouth is slack. His heart rate is inclining. Kylo can feel it.

He feels brave enough to take Hux’s dagger in his hands, step forward, and offer it back with an open palm.

“You can take that dagger, and cut me like you once did to yourself,” Kylo tells him, “and you can make it slow, you can make it painful – you can make it everything I deserve, and more. And I will still thank you. Because I would rather die at your feet, a powerless, drained body of common flesh, than know a life without you.”

While his expression is still guarded, Hux’s eyes are open, and telling.

_You can sense my sincerity._

“Yes…” Hux mutters.

Keeping his palm open, and the dagger available for Hux to take, Kylo asks, “will you forgive me?”

_“Will you forgive me?”_

Kylo doesn’t recall his visions ever providing Hux’s answer.

“Give me Ben Solo.”

Kylo’s eyes move up from the dagger in his hand to Hux’s – Hux’s eyes are hard, icy, and threatening.

“What do you mean?”

“Raise the dead for me,” Hux instructs him, “Give me Ben Solo, give me Kylo Ren, and give me every man you ever will be. Give me the all of you – let it be shared with no one else. Give yourself to me. Swear to never stray far, and _mean it_. Promise me no beast can harm me so long as you are there, and _follow through_. Denounce your loyalties to Supreme Leader Snoke, _and_ the Knights, and give _all_ of your loyalty to me. Not the Order. No one but me. And then, if you do stray far, never come back. And if you are unable to protect me, disappear. If you cannot give me everything you are, have been or will be, leave my quarters now.”

Heart thudding violently, Kylo could be ill – he doesn’t feel Master Snoke’s presence, but this is not a type of thing he’d be able to hide from Master Snoke. He couldn’t lie to Master Snoke’s face – in fact; Hux is suggesting high treason. Kylo would have to denounce his loyalties to Master Snoke, and the Knights, here and now. They’d probably have to go into hiding – Hux might be suggesting defection.

And it shouldn’t make sense – Kylo shouldn’t want to trade his soul for one last chance to keep Hux with him, beside him – but, he does.

“If you cannot give me everything,” Hux repeats, “leave _Aurora_. Never stand by me in a room, on a ship – _never_ cross my path again – this is the choice I can give you. You can give me everything, and I’ll find a way to forgive you, or you can leave now, and show me a final mercy of ridding yourself entirely from my life.”

“I will give you everything.”

Hux is unable to conceal his shock, it seems.

He gives a slight jump at the quickness of Kylo’s response, and Kylo would smile at it if this were the time or place to do something so simple as smile.

Kylo removes the remainder of his robes, and lets them fall to the floor, leaving him bare, but for Hux’s dog tags, his boots, and the black pants that never really belonged to his unofficial uniform. He unstraps his belt, throws his lightsaber away uncaringly, somewhere behind him, and outstretches both his arms to Hux, his palm still open with the dagger in it.

“If you cannot find a way to forgive me, I’d prefer you kill me,” Kylo says frankly, “I can insert a memory of you having to kill me in self-defense that Master Snoke wouldn’t punish you for. You could live on, but if you want me to live on without you… it cannot be done. You are everything to me, Hux. You are every monster, and every ray of light – you are everything, and without you, I am nothing. I am void, meaningless, and I know I’m a burning, spinning thing that ruins everything it touches, but you can take my life any time. You can retract your forgiveness whenever you please. I will give you the reigns. I will give you everything.”

There’s a pregnant pause wherein Hux reaches over, and takes his dagger back. He stares down at the blade between his fingers, and then down at the water.

“I will give you control. That’s what I choose – I choose _you_ ,” Kylo professes, “I choose you, Hux. Infinitely, and unwaveringly. I can give you everything, and I will.”

Hux’s stare catches on the blossoms Kylo made up for him, floating neatly across the water’s still surface, and those hypnotizing blue eyes start to shine, losing their steel coldness.

_Hux’s eyes, friendly, framed by his pale lashes, shining with familiarity._

_“Strange how people describe things as ‘blue as an ocean,’ but water has no color. Certainly not blue.”_

“Strange,” Hux says as if he’s speaking to the water, “how people describe things as ‘blue as an ocean,’ but water has no color. Certainly not blue.”

Kylo brings his arms back in, unsure of what social protocol is appropriate here. He kneels properly before Hux, ready to profess again all of his regret, but Hux doesn’t look down on him long enough for him to start in on any of it.

Hux puts the dagger on his desk, seats himself in the translucent grass, and lies down, letting his hair fall into the water.

Mimicking Hux, Kylo slowly lies down next to him, allowing his own hair to float in the water. They both look up at the sky – enough clouds to keep the sun from blinding them, but the air is still bright.

_“I do not think blue exists outside your eyes, Hux.”_

“I do not think blue exists outside your eyes, Hux.”

_“Stop it.”_

“Stop it.”

_“You don’t want me to stop.”_

“You don’t want me to stop.”

_“Careful, Ren.”_

“Careful, Ren,” Hux warns.

_“When has that ever worked in my favor?”_

Kylo pauses, turns his head toward Hux’s, and asks, “when has that ever worked in my favor?”

_Full lips – they must be soft. They part and white, perfectly aligned teeth present themselves._

Hux looks back at him, and his lips part – his perfect teeth, sharp canines, and all, shine with a danger, and thrill, and comfort, only Kylo could find in them.

It’s a smile.

It’s _Hux’s_ smile, and it’s for _him_.

“Will you find a way to forgive me?”

“Will you really never leave again? Will you really… will you really give me everything?”

“That, and more,” Kylo tells him, “I will protect you, I will stay with you, I will do everything in my power to serve you as you should be served, and I will give you access to my mind. I will give you all that you seek, and anything more you ever desire. I will do anything for you, Hux. And I mean that. I will do anything for you, but live without you. You have all of me – everything. Now, and forever.”

Those familiar eyes look over Kylo’s face, seem to pay particular attention to where Kylo can feel bruises forming. Hux is stronger now than Kylo has ever known him to be – strong enough to carry him from any collapsing base. He doesn’t want to be carried anymore, though. He wants to carry Hux for once.

He wants to be the one to save Hux.

“…then… yes,” Hux mutters quietly, “Yes. You’re forgiven.”

Kylo feels exhausted, uncertain tears fall down from the corners of his eyes. He nods, feeling ready to collapse.

“Can I touch you again? I’d like to heal you.”

Hux gives a single, curt nod, and Kylo rearranges himself so that he is sitting back on his calves, kneeling over Hux. He runs his hand over Hux’s exposed stomach, thumbing over the coarse red hairs by his navel that darken, and disappear beyond the waistband of his uniform pants. He pets gently down Hux’s side, feeling the wounds close as the small incisions on Hux’s back sew themselves together again, while his hand lowers to Hux’s waist.

“What about you?”

Kylo meets Hux’s stare, and asks, “…what about me?”

“How can I heal you?”

That sentiment is so sweet, Kylo feels undeserving of it.

Keeping his hand on Hux’s waist, he says, “you could kiss me.”

Hux is unimpressed, it seems.

“I’m serious,” Kylo insists, his face growing warmer, “I’m weak. I haven’t eaten any solid food for several cycles, haven’t slept in even more, and my powers are… dampened. You strengthen me. If you help me along, I can heal myself well enough.”

“Are you being serious?”

“Entirely.”

Still looking skeptical, Hux sits up on his elbows, and his far hand reaches up to Kylo’s neck, encouraging him to lean down.

Hux kisses him sweetly, and Kylo feels a small rush of power bloom inside him – he feels something like a second wind, his drive back, direction, passion, and heat. Hux can give him so much by doing so little – Kylo decides to transfer this feeling to Hux, so Hux can see, and know what it feels like.

Hux gasps against him, opening his eyes, and pulling away a little.

“I’m sorry,” Kylo apologizes immediately, “Was that too much? I thought… to give you access to my mind, you might want –"

“Is that really what you feel? When I kiss you?”

“Yes,” Kylo admits, unsure if he’s meant to feel some other way when kissed, “Is that… okay?”

Appraising him briefly, Hux eventually murmurs, “yes… that’s okay,” and pulls him back in.

There aren’t many clear thoughts traded, but there are feelings transferred back and forth; keeping that channel open isn’t so demanding of Kylo’s powers – he’s honestly more focused on kissing Hux, and kissing him well, than what’s going through the channel.

Still, through the open channel, Kylo knows through Hux’s energies how he likes to be kissed, Hux in turn feels the reparations Hux’s affection make inside Kylo. They both feel Kylo’s bruises dissipate, they feel his throat loosen up again, and stop burning.

Kylo smiles into the kiss when he feels how unapologetic Hux is for punching him in the throat – he didn’t expect Hux to be apologetic, but it’s good to know Hux is still the haughty, holier-than-thou, self-righteous man Kylo has come to cherish. All these things that shouldn’t please him, all these things Leia Organa warned her son to stay away from – he just can’t.

Kylo knows when Hux wants him to climb on top of him, knows when it’s safe, and wanted, for his hands to pet up and down Hux’s sides. Hux brushes his hands through Kylo’s hair just as Kylo is wishing Hux would, and to resist touching Hux anywhere else without express permission, Kylo grips harder on Hux’s sides. Hux arches a little at that, and Kylo doesn’t feel threatened – Hux is still in control, and the channel is wide open. Hux isn’t thinking of hurting him. Hux is thinking of how much he missed Kylo… and how badly he’s wanted this.

At some point, they pull apart to breathe, and Kylo realizes he allowed the illusion to dissolve around them. When Hux looks at him in question about it, Kylo shrugs, eyes heavy-lidded, and face, and throat, no longer as sore, or beaten as they were moments ago.

“You’re distracting me,” Kylo says in excuse.

Hux smirks, but it dies quickly. He looks down Kylo’s neck, and chest, touches at the dog tag hanging between them, and sighs.

“You missed my birthday.”

Kylo frowns, “did you have cake?”

“No,” Hux admits, toying with the white gold tag between his fingers, “Much too depressed at the time. Drank with Phasma instead. I know you are more than capable of protecting yourself, but fair warning – she is out for blood.”

“As she should be,” Kylo replies, because he knows if the tables were turned, he would be hunting her down, “What can I do for you, Hux? To celebrate how, against all odds, you still grace the living.”

Hux smirks again, and reaches up again, scratches through Kylo’s hair, down his neck, and Kylo visibly shivers and shakes from it.

When he meets Hux’s stare again, Hux’s eyes are contemplative.

“You should come shower with me.”

“What?”

“I’m not saying that’s my birthday gift,” Hux tells him, still looking devious, “We’re both stained with sweat and blood, though, and I won’t deny getting turned on seeing you covered in blood post-battle, but right now, I’d like to be clean.”

“Me being covered in blood after a fight does it for you?” Kylo asks in good humor, his own smile finally making its way back onto his healed face.

“What does it for you?” Hux asks.

Kylo senses the trade – Hux has admitted something, something Kylo didn’t see in his mind – and he wants something of equal value in return. Kylo intends to give more than that.

“Where to begin?” Kylo asks softly, bringing a hand up to pet over Hux’s hair, “I like your hair color, and I like when I see it unkempt. I like how you look in full uniform as well – makes me feel like I should be on my knees for you.”

“That so?” Hux asks in a low breath, his eyes flickering down to Kylo’s mouth.

“I’ve fantasized about that,” Kylo tells him, watching how Hux becomes more and more distracted with his mouth, “How you might pull on my hair, or what it might look like to be on my knees in front of you, look up and see you already staring down at me. Having your eyes on me too – it’s intoxicating. The way you smell, how certainly you speak, just the words you use…”

Hux’s cheekbones have turned a distinct shade of red, and the tips of his ears are quickly following.

“Have I shared too much?” Kylo asks.

“No, keep going,” Hux instructs.

Kylo stands, helping pull Hux up from the floor with him. He bends down to undo his boots, and then remove his black pants, feeling Hux’s eyes on him with every move he makes.

“To be honest, I’ve mostly thought about you fucking me,” Kylo confesses, glancing over his shoulder to gauge Hux’s scandalized reaction, “I’m worried to disappoint you. Training in the ways of the Force calls for celibacy, and starting so young, I never had a chance to… indulge in those base desires. I would like for you to show me how to please you – I will read your body for more to give you, I can play a lot by ear, I'm sure, but I want you to teach me.”

Swallowing roughly, Hux replies, “right – I can… I can teach you.”

“You can stop me at any time,” Kylo assures.

Hux meets his eyes very seriously, and Kylo says again, “you are in control, Hux. I swear it.”

That seems to be enough for Hux, because he follows Kylo into his shower, washes Kylo’s hair, and lets Kylo do the same for him, blushing darkly through it all. Kylo finds it endlessly endearing.

Washing Hux gives Kylo the rare opportunity to see how far down Hux’s blush spreads. It can reach as low as his collarbone in blotches. When he lets Hux wash him back, Hux appears at least a little shy; Kylo isn’t.

Really, he’s never worried too much about nudity. He’s never sexualized people before Hux. He wonders if that would flatter Hux, if he should tell Hux this, then he looks down to see Hux staring at his chest again. He smiles.

“Do you like my chest, Hux?”

“You’re wearing my tags.”

Touching at them, the water spraying down mostly onto Hux’s head, Kylo replies, “yes. I haven’t taken them off for a moment since you gave them to me.”

Hux puts his hand over Kylo’s, then slides his hand down, and off to the side, feeling almost experimentally at Kylo’s pectoral.

“And I do,” Hux tells him, “I do like your chest.”

Kylo tilts his head down, his lips, and nose, resting gently against Hux’s warm cheek. His eyes are open, but cast low, and he can sense that Hux likes the feeling of his eyelashes against his skin – in his head, Hux is calling them ‘butterfly kisses,’ but Kylo has never heard that turn of phrase before. He files that away, to ask about another time.

_You do realize, Hux, that if we do this… we have to get out of here. You’ll be going rogue – we’ll have to defect. You can’t… you can’t have the crown if we do this._

_I’ve got everything I need right here, don’t I?_

Kylo moves his face, still very close to Hux’s, and presses their foreheads together.

“Anything, Hux. Anything you need or want, you’ll have it.”

Hux tilts his face, and moves enough to kiss Kylo, prompting Kylo to shut his eyes, and bring his hands up to Hux’s neck, move the kiss in ways he knows Hux likes, and wants. Getting hard from it isn’t entirely part of the plan, but he’s not worried about it until Hux feels it against the incline of his hip.

Hux pulls away enough to look down between them, and his heart rate skyrockets. Kylo doesn’t know if that’s a good, or bad thing.

_… am I satisfactory?_

Hux makes something like a choked laugh that does nothing to comfort Kylo, and manages to stammer out, “uhm – that’s – yes, Ren – it’s not… you’re just…”

_You’re making me nervous._

Hux looks up at him from under his wet lashes, his eyes bright, and pupils widening, “don’t be. I – a man can imagine things, Ren, and I always assumed – look, you’re a tall man with a lot of muscle, I always assumed you’d be… _in proportion_ , I just didn’t realize… quite how much girth that meant.”

_… I’m still nervous._

Hux does laugh at that, running his hands down Kylo’s chest to his waist, bringing his smile up to Kylo’s lips, and telling him lowly, smoothly, gladly, “you have no reason to be nervous. I mean it.”

 **_I’m_ ** _nervous – it’s not as though I haven’t been creative with myself before, but I will really need to patiently stretch before I can think about having you in me._

_We don’t need to do that if you don’t want to._

Hux’s eyes focus in on Kylo’s again; he looks dangerous, and commanding in the way he often does when he’s giving orders on the control bridge. A thrill runs through Kylo, being at the center of it.

_I **will** have you in me._

_That wasn’t supposed to be a challenge._

_I want it. I want you. And you said I will have what I want._

Virginal concerns start causing Kylo some unfamiliar anxiety. He’s too embarrassed to voice his worry about his performance, or how long he might be able to perform – it’s only dawning on him now that this could wind up being a very humiliating situation for him.

His dignity is Hux’s, though – everything he is belongs to Hux, and he wants it that way. Hux will teach him, and when Hux teaches, whether it’s in sparring, or dancing, he’s patient. Kylo tries to breathe deeply, knowing this, and admiring this about Hux; Hux will be patient with him.

“Come,” Hux tells him, turning the water off, “I want you to go lie down on my bed.”

Eager to heed Hux’s commands, Kylo goes, and does just that, after drying off quickly. His hair still soaks Hux’s pillow, but Kylo couldn’t care less – to fall into Hux’s sheets, and be immersed in Hux’s cologne, and natural musk, is heady, and consoling all at once – truly like coming home to a lover.

Hux walks out of the refresher with a small container in one hand, and the other hand toweling off his head. Kylo isn’t entirely certain he’s being invited to, but he stares at Hux. He really is very pale, lithe, but strong – seeing all of his skin at once is overwhelming, when usually every inch of it is covered.

Everything about him is irritatingly perfect – from the slim lines of his hips, down his lengthy, well-built legs – even his feet are perfectly shaped, clean of callouses, and with a pronounced arch. His leg hair is almost blonde, but the hair that turns dark red over his pubic bone is attention-grabbing. It’s trimmed, and groomed as well as the rest of Hux – which makes sense, Kylo supposes. If Hux is obsessive compulsive about the symmetry of bruises on his body, why wouldn’t he be concerned with even the parts of his body nearly no one has ever seen.

Inevitably, Kylo’s hungry eyes drag to Hux’s groin – he’s hard, and his cock is isn’t unlike Kylo’s in length, or shape, or width. It makes sense – they’re of similar height, and, strangely, of weight as well – Hux is just smaller of frame. Kylo knows firsthand that, even how small he can seem, is a strategic deception.

When Kylo tries to imagine Hux working that into him, though, more blood leaves his brain, and rushes through his pounding chest, leaving reason behind. He’s inexperienced, but he’s rather sure he’d like that, and he wants it.

Whatever they’re about to do, though, isn’t about Kylo, and he knows that. He only wants to give to Hux, right now – to heal the wounds he inflicted, let Hux take whatever he wants. No matter what Hux wants, Kylo is practically _impatient_ to please.

Tossing the towel aside, Hux opens the container – it’s a small, dish-like thing with crème colored gel substance in it. Hux puts it on the bedside table, and promptly climbs onto the bed, and straddles Kylo.

Kylo looks up at Hux over him, and his heart starts beating harder – it beats so hard, Hux is able to see the dog tag over Kylo’s chest tremor like something fragile left on a desk during a quake.

“You know that if you don’t want to do this, I would never force you to…”

“Of course,” Kylo replies, “You’ll have to mind my nervousness. I’m not entirely sure what to expect.”

“Alright,” Hux replies, “So long as you know you can stop me at any point.”

Nodding his agreement, Kylo opens their channel again, wanting, and needing, to pick up on all of Hux’s feelings. There is some degree of insecurity that Hux _does not_ want Kylo to try to comfort him about; it’s something superficial about his body being too pale, or weak in comparison to Kylo’s. To Kylo, it’s nonsense. Hux is beautiful to him.

He respects Hux’s desire to not speak about it, though.

Inside Hux, there is levity, and somehow there is still a heady weight to it all, as well. There is a lot of want – desire that’s been pushed back and away, for a long time now. There’s a level of disbelief too. Some fear. A lot of excitement.

Hux falls over him, planting his hands on either side of the pillow around Kylo’s head, a lot like he did when he was drunk, but he’s much more focused now – very clear-headed.

_I feel you in my head now._

_I’m allowing you to. Do you like it?_

_Yes. Keep at that._

_Yes, General._

Hux looks shocked for a moment, and then deeply pleased. He lowers himself enough to nip at Kylo’s bottom lip, keeping his eyes lidded, but open, and on Kylo’s. When he lets go, he whispers, “I like that, Ren. See? No reason to be nervous. You’re already exceeding expectation.”

That statement, unfortunately, does _not_ ease Kylo’s concerns. Hux senses this, and gives a little laugh before preoccupying his mouth with licking, and biting into Kylo’s neck. Kylo groans, spreads his legs, and stretches his neck out, hyperaware of Hux’s sharp canines, and loving them more than he should.

Hux removes the tags from around Kylo’s neck when he deems them a hindrance to more skin. Kylo is a little too gone to care.

He shuts his eyes, lolling his head back, paying close attention to every bruise Hux sucks into his skin, and every bite forcing him to gasp pleasantly, as Hux moves down from Kylo’s neck, his chest, his stomach, and after gently sucking a bruise into Kylo’s thigh, he takes his mouth away.

Kylo is about to open his eyes, and probably make some incoherent noise to establish his displeasure at Hux taking his mouth away, but then he feels a hot breath ghost over the head of his cock, and blood rushes down again. When his cock throbs with his pulse, it bobs into a waiting mouth.

Kylo gasps loudly, gripping at the sheets.

_Relax, Ren. I’ve barely done a thing yet._

Kylo can’t form a thought, so he sends Hux some mixed patchwork of frustration, embarrassment, and want turning desperate. He can sense Hux’s haughty joy radiating back at him.

The sensation is so foreign, but very, very much welcome – Hux’s mouth is smooth, hot, and clearly stretching to accommodate him; he can feel Hux’s canines here too, but rather than fearful, he’s thrilled again.

He wonders, for a moment, if Hux is to blame for his unnatural psychosexual responses, or if he’s always been wired this way.

He can’t look down, all too sure he’ll come much too quickly, if he watches. He can feel Hux salivating, though, as he swallows down as much of Kylo’s length as he can, eventually managing to take him down to the root.

When Kylo’s cock throbs again in Hux’s mouth, Hux _moans_ around him, and Kylo can feel it vibrate through his _entire body_.

His grip on the sheets turns his knuckles white.

_You’re holding back._

_I can’t…_

_You can’t what, Ren?_

Kylo’s throat feels tight, and he shakes his head, like that will communicate anything. He lets out a strangled breath, and mutters, “I can’t – if I move… it’s so good.”

Hux brings his mouth back up, swirling his tongue back and forth as he does. He keeps his full, kiss-swollen lips against the very slight curve of Kylo’s cock, and he looks up at Kylo, demanding in silence that Kylo look back down at him.

Meeting Hux’s eyes is overpowering. His cock is shining with Hux’s drool, and Hux’s lips too are wet, and red, his face is flustered, but his eyes are laser-focused. He is truly something to behold.

_Put your hand in my hair._

Shaking as he does, Kylo takes his right hand off the sheet, and rakes it through Hux’s hair, planting his fingers by Hux’s scalp.

Hux uses the flat of his tongue to lick up the side of Kylo’s cock, and then says, “harder.”

Kylo lets out something embarrassingly close to a whimper, and does as instructed.

_Harder, Ren. Like you were gripping the sheets – pull. I’m not about to fall apart. I want you to._

Still hesitant, Kylo does as he’s asked, and Hux rewards him by swallowing him down again, forcing his hand into a fist, bright red hair like feathers between his fingers. He shuts his eyes again, and bites his lip.

Hux’s arms stretch up, his hands massaging up Kylo’s torso until he’s got both Kylo’s nipples under his thumbs. He moves his tongue in time with the rhythm he rubs Kylo’s nipples in, and Kylo arches, groaning loudly, and feeling everything in him tighten up delightfully.

 _There it is_ , Hux heartens, _I like the noises. Keep making them for me, Ren._

“Hux – _ah_ –“ Kylo’s toes start to curl, “it’s too – it’s too good – I can’t –"

_You can, and you will. For me. Are you ready for more instruction?_

“ _Hux_ ,” Kylo moans tragically, eyes tightly shut, and neck arched, his head thrown back.

_I’ll take that as an affirmative – I want you to fuck into my mouth. You can push in as much as you want – I’m not sensitive to it._

_I can’t, I can’t – I’ll come, and I don’t want to come until I’ve –_

_I won’t let you come_ , Hux answers certainly, _so get to it._

Another pathetic sound from somewhere in his throat, and Kylo follows the order, letting his hips move the way they’ve wanted to since he first felt Hux’s breath over the sensitive skin of his head.

The deeper he goes, and the quicker his hips move, the harder he grips at the sheets, and Hux’s hair, the more Hux makes gasped, wanton noises, and the more his slaver coats Kylo’s cock, the drool pooling, and dripping down his sac.

He keeps at it, knowing he can’t do it for long. How easily Hux takes all of him in, though, how cushioning, and overheated, Hux’s throat is around him is too good to reject. He keeps fucking Hux’s mouth, listening to, and memorizing those shameless, lewd noises.

At some point, he loses his right mind, he feels almost like he’s floating – there’s a tingling sensation at the base of his spine, and he’s deep in Hux’s throat, head, and face, hot like a fever, and then it all abruptly stops.

Hux takes his mouth off Kylo’s body, takes his hands away from Kylo’s chest, grips the base of Kylo’s cock with his middle finger, and thumb, so tightly, Kylo _can’t_ come, and then he has the audacity to _smile_ at Kylo.

“You liked that,” Hux says proudly – a lot like when he realized tickling Kylo made him laugh.

How worn and rough Hux’s voice is from having Kylo in his mouth – just the sound of his voice, fucked out, and raspy, could’ve made Kylo come, and Hux seems to realize this when Kylo’s cock throbs again in his vice-like grip. He glances between Kylo’s cock, and then to his heavy-lidded eyes.

_You **really** liked that._

“This is torture,” Kylo complains.

Hux smirks at him, and says, “of course it is, Ren. It’s sex. It’s no fun without a little agony.”

“This is my first experience with it, and I can already argue that notion is completely untrue.”

Hux laughs, and lets go of Kylo with gradually loosening pressure. He climbs back up Kylo’s body, and kisses him again, licks into his mouth, and has him feeling boneless, and out of breath in just minutes.

_Reach into the dish on the table. Coat one finger in the gel, and slide it into me._

Focusing on giving Hux pleasure is a welcome distraction. Still keeping their foreheads together, sharing the same breaths, Kylo stretches his left arm out to the bedside table, dips his middle finger in, and watches Hux straighten up over him. He moves his hand between Hux’s straddling legs, palming Hux’s (apparently) very sensitive perineum as he patiently works every knuckle into Hux.

Hux’s hands find purchase at Kylo’s ribs, gripping there, and leaning his weight for support. His legs are shaking, and Kylo can’t help but feel a little encouraged by the sight of it. When he moves onto the second finger, and crooks them just so, _that_ seems to wake something up inside Hux. He starts rolling his hips back onto Kylo’s hand, influencing him to go faster, and deeper. His hair is a mess, and his face is flushed – he’s stunning to watch.

The third finger takes more time. When Kylo is worried about hurting Hux, Hux simply tells him that it must be done, or he won’t be able to take all of Kylo’s girth. Kylo tells him again that this isn’t mandatory, but Hux just shakes his head, his eyes shut tight, and he mutters back that he wants this too badly to stop now.

Hux slathers more of the gel onto Kylo than Kylo thinks is necessary, but Hux assures him that it is more necessary than he realizes.

Hux plants his hands onto Kylo’s chest, spreads his legs further even as they shake, and very, very slowly seats himself onto Kylo.

Kylo grips the sheets the entire time, trying to control his blood flow with just strength of will – if he shut his eyes, it would be easier to keep from coming too soon, but it’d be a sin to look away.

Flushed down to his chest, pink nipples hard, cock dark, hard and throbbing, with those shuddering legs, brows pulled in, and eyes shut for focus – Hux is too terrific to look away from.

By the time Kylo is entirely inside Hux, they’re both breathless, without having actually moved all too much, and Hux’s heart is pounding violently. Kylo pets a quivering hand down Hux’s thigh, and asks, “are you okay?”

Hux nods, bites his lip, and seems hesitant to say anything else.

Kylo worries.

_Are you really okay?_

_I knew this would be good with you – I knew you’d be gentle, gentle with me, and this would be good, I just didn’t know…_

Hux knows how that sentence ends, but he doesn’t want Kylo to know how it ends, so Kylo lets it go. He feels a maelstrom of emotion coming from Hux – the control he once lost as a cadet is given back to him, now. Kylo can sense there’s more to it than that, though – among immense pleasure, and just the right amount of pain, amidst the pride, and security, and passion, there’s a sense of _purification_.

This is what surprises Kylo the most.

Digging deeper, Kylo finds that Hux has felt dirtied, tainted, ever since he was attacked, but he feels as if Kylo has purified him, like Hux was a water that needed blessing, and Kylo’s flesh, and unabashed adoration has done that for him.

 _This isn’t just fucking is it_ , Kylo says more than asks.

Hux turns his face away, letting out a gritted, sweet, animal noise when he brings himself up, and then slides back down again. A noise like the air was knocked out of him leaves Kylo’s chest, and the muscles in his abdomen shake. The skin under Hux’s hands is too hot, but he doesn’t mind.

Hux swivels his hips, smooth, wet, searing flesh tightens up around Kylo’s cock, and he arches his back again, bucks without meaning to, and one of Hux’s lights break.

Hux looks off to the side, still gripping Kylo’s chest. He looks up at the ceiling where the light has shattered, and then he looks back at Kylo.

Kylo’s brow is sweating from the exertion, and he can’t understand it – he’s barely moved his body, but the command he’s had to practice over his body is making him overheated, exhausted, but not exhausted enough to stop. His eyes are lidded when he turns to look at Hux.

_I’m sorry._

_Don’t be - don't be sorry, that’s fucking amazing_ , Hux responds, slamming down on Kylo again.

Kylo groans helplessly, one hand in the sheets, the other grasping at Hux’s thigh, and another light flickers, and breaks.

_Ren, I want you to fuck me._

Heart fluttering at the words, Kylo moves both his hands up to Hux’s waist, and he gets caught in the riptide of Hux’s severe emotions. It rejuvenates him, feeding off of Hux’s energy, sharing in Hux’s mind and soul.

It feels like there’s been an aimless energy buzzing around the inside of Kylo’s body, possibly his whole life, and it’s just now finding a release.

_There is fury, but not a kind he is familiar with – an outlet too. Something also unfamiliar._

_There are hues, and shades of blue everywhere, but it is not cool – not in the least. Everything feels humid, even, but he knows he’s indoors. There is damp sweat by his temples, making the hair at the base of his neck, and along his forehead curl, and stick to him. It’s hard to catch his breath, but he’s glad for it. He doesn’t want to catch his breath._

Kylo’s breath catches, but he keeps bucking, watching how Hux bounces on him, feeling how Hux’s fingers slide over the sweat on his chest, listening to how Hux gasps, and moans. It’s like a Heavenly choir singing.

_He doesn’t think he’s wearing anything in this vision – the air feels electric across his skin, he hears panting, and can’t decipher whether it is his, or someone else’s._

One of his hands travels down the curve of Hux’s waist, stopping at his hip. Hux’s arms tremble, and he leans down over Kylo, sweat beading on his forehead as well. A single drop moves down his forehead, along his nose, and drips onto Kylo.

He stretches his neck to kiss Hux, feels the whole bed rocking with his thrusts, and when he opens his eyes again, allowing Hux to pull away, and catch his breath, he sees the mess of Hux’s fiery red hair, and every nerve lights up when he hears Hux whisper in a deep sigh, “ _Ren_.”

_His hands slide down a slim, tapered waist, someone else’s sweat drops from the tip of their nose onto him – they lean down toward him, everything is rocking and maybe lopsided. The world is on a tilt, everything is heavy, syrupy and sensitive, but good. Immensely good._

_A flash of ginger hair, and a deep sigh of “ **Ren** –"_

“ _Fuck_ – _Hux_ , I can’t – I can’t hold back much longer,” Kylo warns apologetically.

Still gasping, Hux gives a quiet laugh, his smile is treacherous, and lovely, and damning, “ _Ren_ –"

_Gasping, a short laugh – Hux’s canines are sharp, and his smile is eager, so dangerous, so thrilling –“ **Ren** –"_

“It’s fine, just don’t stop yet – don’t stop – you feel amazing.”

That praise gets Kylo’s blood boiling even more, and whiskey glasses tucked away in the common living space start shattering.

Kylo’s hands come to cup Hux’s neck, and drag him back down, kissing him, and swallowing every incredible noise he makes. It doesn’t take much concentration to keep his hips moving – they grind into Hux instinctively, beyond his control, and he feels himself getting lost in the sensations. He doesn’t want to be found.

Hux is so on top of him now, his dog tags are lying over Kylo’s chest – the only cool thing in the room, perhaps. Everything else feels humid, almost foggy. His legs and hands are shaking, but so are Hux’s, and he doesn’t mind it. He moves his tongue against Hux’s in a way that elicits a gorgeous noise, and Hux’s hands dive into his hair, pulling hard as he bites Kylo’s bottom lip, making something between a purr and a growl.

Kylo’s eyes flutter shut, his body just exposed nerves, every synapse firing in pleasure like he has never, ever known.

_Kylo’s hands clasped around Hux’s neck, dog tags hanging there, cool against Kylo’s overheated skin, Hux’s hands tangled in his hair, and **pulling** – every nerve alight, his legs shaking, Hux’s perfect teeth biting over his full bottom lip –_

Hux’s hands slide from Kylo’s still-wet hair to either side of his face. Kylo dares to open his eyes, and he sees Hux staring back.

His irises are eclipsed. His pupils are blown wide, and they look enormous against the icy, light blue of his thin ring of an iris. The way Hux is looking at him, and the feedback Hux is giving off – Kylo may have been a virgin for most of his life, but he knows the difference between fucking, and love-making. He knows the difference between carnal pleasure, and the make-believe stuff poets write about.

This isn’t fucking.

And he won’t admit to it, but Hux knows it too.

Kylo curls his arms around Hux, tucking Hux’s face into the crook of his neck, feeling too human, too raw, too real, but not wanting it to end. He could swear his soul, and Hux’s, are spiral galaxies colliding, unraveling each other, and twisting up into one colossal energy that’s too bright, and too marvelous, to look directly at.

Picking up his head to draw close to Kylo, Hux’s lips move against his, he’s breathless, and flustered, and ethereal-like in how handsome he is. His eyes are deep, blown, and glassy.

_What is it, Hux?_

There’s a hiccuped breath as Kylo happens to rub a sensitive bundle of nerves his fingers had captured earlier, and then there are tears building that have nothing to do with sadness, and Hux’s hands on either side of Kylo’s face grip harder. Kylo holds Hux more tightly to him, wants him to feel safe, wants to give him what he needs.

“Kylo,” Hux whispers, his voice velvety, and entrancing.

_Hux’s hands cupping either side of Kylo’s face, staring deeply into his eyes – the intensity of having all of Hux’s focus is intimidating, and exhilarating, and too heavy, too much, too much, but Kylo wants more._

_Kylo’s arms curling protectively around Hux, and he feels small, but Kylo knows Hux is strong despite his size, the walking deception he is; Hux’s lips so close, Kylo can **feel** it against his own lips when Hux whispers wantonly, and carefully, “ **Kylo** …”_

It feels incredible to know that he is precisely where he is meant to be. It’s pure elation – the universe bound him to Hux, and he doesn’t want it any other way.

 _Tell me_ , Kylo encourages him, loving the sound of his first name on Hux’s lips, loving the taste of him, and the feel of him, and knowing he’s going to come soon, and wishing it could last forever, _whatever it is – you can tell me._

_ _

“Kylo,” Hux murmurs again, his hair falling into Kylo’s, his brow knit, and heart beating at ninety-seven beats per minute, “Kylo…”

Kylo feels Hux’s cock throb as it slides between them, slipping between the sweat and precum that’s gathered there. He can sense the friction is enough – he can sense Hux is close.

He suddenly finds himself looking into Hux’s eyes again – there are certainly tears there, but again, there’s no sadness to be detected. No fear, no insecurity – Hux feels safe, he feels wanted, and Kylo gives back into that channel just how wanted Hux is by him. Hux gasps again, and looking Kylo in the eye, he whispers, “Kylo… my name is Aurelien.”

Unprepared for that, Kylo’s hands claw at Hux’s back, and Hux lets out another beautiful cry, coming between them, and as he does, his body contracts around Kylo sporadically, pulling Kylo’s orgasm from him with so much force, his ears ring.

It feels like it takes a long time to pick up the pieces of his senses, but it’s probably not all that long, really.

He’s still hard, still inside Hux, and he knows his body well enough to know he’ll be hard still, for a while.

Kylo wants to know why Hux told him his name – he wants to know for certain. He wants to hear it straight from Hux, but Hux’s feedback indicates that being questioned about it is the last thing he wants.

Maybe this is Kylo’s punishment or maybe Hux regrets it. Maybe Hux just wanted to fulfill his promise, the one he made to Phasma that he would tell Kylo his name the next time they saw one another. Maybe Hux is scared.

Hux begins to lift himself, his body worn and fatigued; Kylo helps to pick him up and sits up with him, remaining inside Hux all the while. Hux is still feeling blissful; he wraps his arms around Kylo’s neck and kisses him sweetly for a few moments. He pulls away only to laugh at feeling Kylo throb inside him again. He sighs, staring into Kylo’s eyes and says, “we should shower… and I should change the sheets.”

“But moving sounds like a terrible idea.”

“Yes, it does,” Hux agrees.

“Can you wrap your legs around my waist?”

Curious, Hux nods, and does so; Kylo stretches out his legs, wraps his arms beneath Hux, and maneuvers them off the bed. Hux crosses his ankles over the small of Kylo’s back, and Kylo carries him to the shower – that’s where he eventually softens enough to pull out of Hux comfortably.

He helps keep Hux standing, sensing how weak his legs feel, and although Hux is unhurt, Kylo heals any soreness growing. He helps to wash Hux between languid, lazy kisses that last much too long, and waste far too much water.

He insists on carrying Hux back to bed as well, which Hux allows only because he’s so blissed out. Kylo would laugh at Hux's uncharacteristically lax expression, but he’s hypnotized by it. Kylo never knew he could have such an effect on someone without use of the Force. It’s empowering.

He removes the fluids from the sheets, shaping them in the air like a ball, and then disposing of it all in the refresher. Hux is already under the covers when he comes back, stretching, and looking more rested, and satisfied, than Kylo has ever known him to be.

_It’s okay for me to sleep with you in your quarters, then?_

_Consider ten feet away as straying too far, from here on out._

Sweetly, Kylo smiles, and joins Hux in his bed, gathering him up in his arms, and falling asleep to the sound of Hux’s restful heart. Thirty-three beats per minute, breath soft, and even against Kylo’s chest, and no nightmares, or sleep terrors, disturb him that cycle.

Kylo’s presences keeps all the other ghosts and beasts at bay.

Kylo knows that when they wake, he needs to tell Hux about the visions he’s had of the green lightsaber. They need to make a plan to defect. He needs to warn Nali, and they have to figure out what to do about Phasma, and Millicent – Hux would probably kill him for just suggesting they leave without Millicent. Kylo could never do it, anyway.

There is so much to do when they wake – danger is still lurking around the corner, but Kylo has Hux in his arms. He has Aurelien Hux in his arms, souls bared, and twined, and he can’t bring himself to feel anything, but unadulterated contentment.

He’s at peace – at long last, again, Hux has brought him peace, and when he sleeps, he only has visions of their house in their illusion. Of cooking there, sleeping there, cleaning there, arguing over arbitrary things, kissing in the kitchen, on the couch, in their bed, in the water at the only beach Hux has ever cared for.

Where Hux is, there is peace, and Kylo fully intends to deliver on every vow he’s made to Hux; he will disobey Master Snoke, he will leave the Knights of Ren, leave the First Order – he’ll gladly leave it _all_ behind. Hux is enough. More than enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you skipped the sex! (and basically the whole chapter lol) here's what you missed!  
> Hux and Kylo have very steamy sexy times, but it gradually gets more and more serious. It starts off with some good humor, like 'oh Kylo, you're a virgin and i will teach u my ways' but it ends with Hux tearfully telling Kylo his name. Kylo is able to feel that this is more than a common sexual encounter as well - not only does Hux regain the independence and strength he felt D'Jac stole from him so long ago (and he feels 'purified,' by his sex with Kylo), but Kylo can also sense that there is too much emotion between them for this to be 'just fucking.' Hux won't admit it to it, but Kylo knows and can sense that Hux knows this as well. Neither of them vocalize their feelings other than Hux telling Kylo his name (and we all basically know what that means).  
> That's what you missed!
> 
> Hope to see y'all in Part 4! Hope you enjoy the end of High Hopes...! <3

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [A Little Tied Up](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7962175) by [MellytheHun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MellytheHun/pseuds/MellytheHun)




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